


Necessary Changes

by Devilc



Category: Friday Night Lights, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comics, Crossover, First Kiss, Kiss and Cuddle Challenge, M/M, Marvel Comics - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-22
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 00:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason Street's life got turned upside down the night he broke his neck and ended up in a wheelchair.  It gets turned inside out and backwards when he discovers he's a mutant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1407graymalkin](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=1407graymalkin).



> Set after FNL season finale and assumes you have seen it. The XMen I depict in this story are an amalgamation of the movies and the comics. You don't need to know either to enjoy. And if you do know the comics, I did a grab bag of a bit of everything from Marvel, so don't look for one particular era or continuity.
> 
> Many moons ago, 1407graymalkin begged me to write Jason/Scott for this kiss and cuddle challenge thing. "No problem" I (foolishly) thought, the TimMuse will —
> 
> The TimMuse was run over by the JasonMuse. And the JasonMuse kept talking and talking and talking. 24,000+ words later (that's 64 pages in 12 point font), he finally said, "The End".
> 
> Thanks to wolfenm for a very speedy beta.

As the Dillon Panthers headed out of the doorway to board the buses to take them to State, they all reached up and smacked the P in a time honored good-luck ritual.

Except for Jason Street who wheeled over and looked up wistfully.

Without a word, Tim Riggins came over and hefted Jason out of his chair, lifting Jason as high as he could. If Jason strained, he could just 

The next thing Jason knew he was on the floor, legs on a bench, with Tim, Coach, and a very worried trainer huddled over him.

"Tim, you're crushing my hand," Jason whispered.

"Oh. Sorry, Six, but -- "

"Jason, are you okay?" Coach asked.

"Yeah," Jason groaned, blinking and trying to turn away from the too bright penlight the trainer was flashing in his eyes.

"Pupils are reacting right. Pulse is back to normal. Breathing is good."

"What happened?" Jason asked.

Tim looked at him, eyes huge pools of worry. "You touched the P and then you - you - your eyes rolled up and you groaned like something was really hurting you and you p-passed out."

"Yeah ..." It came back to him now. "I just felt ... overwhelmed." Jason said.

The trainer chalked it up to the excitement of the situation and the fact that Jason's central nervous system was extremely compromised and "glitchy" these days. Coach gave him the eagle eye and told Jason that if he felt the least bit faint, he was to tell him immediately.

And Tim?

Tim hovered so much over the next few days that Jason, as much as he loved Tim, wanted to reach out and strangle him.

A week after the triumphant return from Austin, a letter arrived for Jason from the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. They had heard about his football career, his accident, and his phenomenal invitation to try out for the National Quad Rugby Team. They had also seen the _60 Minutes _ documentary on the Dillon Panthers "Cinderella Season," which had mentioned his mentorship of Matt Saracen. Based on these things, as well as his other qualifications, representatives of the school were interested in talking to him about the Institute and why it would be a good fit for him.

The language wasn't that much different from the recruitment letters that Jason had received back when everybody and their mother wanted him to quarterback for them, but ... something about the letter, holding it in his hands and reading it filled him with warmth and hope.

Encouraged, Jason went online and researched. Xavier Institute turned out to be a small private school in Westchester County, New York. Though mostly a college prep school, through partnerships with several colleges and universities (CUNY, SUNY, Columbia, Cornell, Fordham, Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, and Barnard College) the Institute offered BA and BS degrees across a range of disciplines. Furthermore, the small size of the Institute meant that students received individualized instruction in a self-designed course of studies. The Headmaster, Dr. Charles Xavier, not only held PhDs in Genetics, Biophysics, and Psychology, but he was also a paraplegic. Finally, Jason kind of dug their motto, "Mutatis Muntanis," which meant, more or less, "The necessary changes having been made."

After talking it over with his parents and Tami Taylor (who goggled with shocked delight ... the Xavier Institute was very prestigious, it turned out) Jason sent back a polite letter saying that yes, he was willing to meet with representatives of the Institute.

Privately? Sheeeah. Right. Even with financial aid up the wazoo, it was going to be fucking expensive for him to go to school at UTA , and private schools like SMU? Out of the question. An itty bitty ivy-league type private college? Not in this life.

Two days later, he was hanging at a smallish get-together at Tim's house, sitting out back by an impromptu fire-pit, talking with Matt, Julie, Tyra, and Landry (Matt's nice but weird friend who was torching for Tyra) when Tim, excitedly talking to Landry about this comic book called _Preacher _ that Landry had loaned to him, popped the top off a Blackened Voodoo (a huge in-joke after State) and handed it over to Jason, and Jason gasped in shock and nearly fell out of the chair.

Because Tim was horny as fuck. Okay, no surprise there.

_But Landry _?!

By some miracle Jason didn't blurt that out. Instead he mumbled something about reflexive spasms and quietly sipped his beer as his mind reeled.

It only got worse over the next week. Lobbing (as best he could) a football around with Tim and Bo, the motor-mouthed pip-squeak 4th grader who lived next door to Tim, Jason found himself blinking back tears because Bo just hero-worshiped Tim like nothing Jason could put into words, and playing with Bo made Tim so happy, but it was all mixed in with a bit hurt over the fact that Jackie, Bo's mom, just saw Tim as this stupid, horny _kid_, not as someone who could be her man. Lyla's simmering rage slapped him when he reached up to shove yet another "I'm sorry" card through the slit in her locker. Picking up a pen to sign for a package let him know that his mother had broken down and cried while filling out some insurance paperwork. Tami Taylor handed him a copy of her letter of recommendation to the Xavier Institute and her worry and excitement about what a pregnancy at her age could mean crashed over Jason.

That night Jason sobbed into his pillow.

He'd figured it out.

On top of everything else, every fucking thing else, he was a mutant.

The only thing that kept him from going to the gun cabinet, grabbing the shotgun, putting the barrel in his mouth, and pulling the trigger was the fact that he had such limited use of his hands that he'd probably couldn't load, cock, and fire it, and that if he tried, he'd probably make such a huge fucking ruckus in the process that he'd wake his mom and dad up and then he'd probably end up spilling the beans when they asked him why he wanted to kill himself.

He looked and felt like shit the next morning when he wheeled into Tami Taylor's office for his meeting with the representatives of the Xavier Institute. Coach was there, too.

"Son, are you alright?" Coach gave him a worried frown.

Jason gave a huge sigh and said, "I didn't sleep much."

Coach grinned at him and said, "I don't either, the night before any kind of big opportunity like this."

_Yeah. Wait until they find out I'm a mutie. And then it will all dry up and blow away. Fuck. And when you find out? When the school finds out? I can kiss my job good-bye. _ Jason forced a smile onto his face.

Five minutes later a jaw-droppingly gorgeous red-headed woman in a neatly tailored gray and blue suit walked in and introduced herself as Dr. Jean Grey. She was accompanied by one of the students, a blonde, athletic looking guy -- a little bit younger than Jason -- named Bobby Drake.

Jason tried to be polite and act excited but his heart just wasn't in it. The more Dr. "Call me Jean" Grey talked about the Institute and the programs and how there was a Quad Rugby squad just a short drive away -- all things that would be taken away as soon as they discovered that he was a mutant -- the more Jason felt his head throb from a mounting tension headache.

::Would you like a little break so you can take some aspirin?::

Jason started and nearly shrieked.

::Sorry about that. I don't mean to pry, but you're "broadcasting" and I can't entirely shut it out.:: Jean smiled warmly at him and went on to say something about mentorship opportunities at the Institute and yes, although Jason was coaching here, he really was being paid out of the budget used to hire people to scout other teams and log stats, wasn't he?

_You -You're -- _

::We all are, Jason. I'll tell you more later.::

Jason felt his headache begin to melt away. He noticed a slight lessening of tension at the edge of Jean's mouth.

"Yes, he is being paid out of that budget," Coach said with a sigh.

"I completely understand why you gave Jason this position and why you don't want to lose him. I understand that option pass that Matt Saracen threw is something that even many college level quarterbacks can't do, and that Jason is the one who taught it to him. But at the same time, Coach Taylor, Jason can't be hired into a full coaching position for the school until he gets a four year degree."

Coach ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah, I know. I know I'm going to lose Jason sooner or later." He shot Jason a mock grumpy look. "Damnit."

Jean smiled and continued, "Obviously, we don't do intercollegiate athletics at our school, but we do have an intramural athletic program and the director, Mr. Summers, does have his hands full with our programs. Jason would be a good fit, I think, and it would give him an opportunity to work with teens and even some adults who have a variety of athletic capabilities, from the gifted -- " she winked at Bobby, "to those whose 'middle name is grace', and even others with physical challenges."

~oo(0)oo~

"So you're both ... mutants?" Jason said softly when he found a quiet enough place in the tour of Dillon High he was giving.

"Yup." Bobby said.

"What --"

"Ice. If there's water, I can make ice."

"Oh."

::Telepathy, obviously, and telekinesis.::

"How ... did you find me?"

"We have ways of looking for people like us," Jean said. "When you went active a few weeks ago, you made a sort of spike in the astral plane. Gave several of us teeps quite the headache."

"Sorry," Jason murmured.

Jean shook her head. "No need. It wasn't like you meant to have a neural overload so intense you passed out."

Jason sighed. "So why me? Why now?"

"Evolution," Bobby said. "Plus the fact that you're a guy and we don't really fully mature until we're 21. You're just a late bloomer is all."

Jean laughed and said rather dryly, "Although it's rather debatable if men ever mature."

Bobby stuck his tongue out at her.

"I rest my case." She laughed and smiled at Bobby.

~oo(0)oo~

"I don't know," Jason's mother said, wringing her hands. "New York is awfully far away."

"I have to leave home some time, Mom."

"I know, baby, but --"

"Mom, how do you know that after I go to college I wouldn't find a job in some place like New York, or Seattle, or LA? I mean, isn't that one of the things you wanted for me? A chance to get a good education so I could find a real job and support myself?"

His dad spoke up. "Speaking of education, how much is all of this going to cost? I mean, we do okay, but we're not exactly made of money."

"The school has a large, multi-million dollar private endowment. Your tuition costs would be based on entirely what you can comfortably afford to pay. About 25% of our students have the entire cost of their education and expenses covered by the endowment," Jean replied.

"And when she says 'comfortably' she means it," Bobby added. "I can't, of course, tell you what they'd decide for you, but my family pays $1000 a month for me."

Jean smiled at him, "But others pay a lot more, Bobby."

"Well, yeah, but Kitty's and Warren's parents are filthy rich."

Jean snorted and sipped her iced tea. "We're not here to do a hard sell. We want you all to know that this offer will remain open indefinitely. Jason can complete his senior year of High School with us, or he could take his GED and get started on a four year program. He can start at another college and transfer. The Xavier Institute has a lot to offer him, and we think that a young man with his talents and, well, frankly, gumption, has a lot to offer to fellow students at any school he chooses."

::The sooner you start training to control and use your power, the better it is.::

_I don't think it has an on-off switch._

::We can help you accommodate that, too.::

~oo(0)oo~

"Mom, Dad," Jason said the next morning at breakfast, "I _really _ want to go to that school."

"I don't know, honey," his mother replied, reaching over to stroke his hair.

Jason wanted to scream at her that just touching the fork told him how much she worried, and that when Dad handed him a glass of OJ, he could tell that he had mixed feelings, on one hand wanting Jason to be a man, on the other, worrying just as much. "I just think it's the right place for me, is all."

"But what about UTA? You were thinking of them not six weeks ago. And it will be a lot cheaper, too, and in-state."

"You don't know that. Depending on how things are, it could be cheaper or even the same cost for me to go to the Xavier Institute."

"Baby ..."

"Jesus, Mom! Please, please, _please _ don't call me that any more. I mean, I know I'll 'always be your baby' and all that, but I'm not a little baby any more. I'm going to be 18 in July. Yeah, so I can't fucking walk, but I _can_ take care of myself, all by myself, I'm a C7 break, not a C1, for crying out loud. Do you know what that means? It means functional independence, which I'm never going to have if you think that you need to mother hen me for the rest of my life." He threw his fork down. "Y'know what? I'm going to get dressed and go to school. I'll call Tim and see if he can't give me a ride, and if he can't, I'll wheel my functionally independent ass there." He spun away from the table.

A few minutes later, Jason's father knocked on the door. "Son? Jay, I'll -- I'll give you a ride."

"No, Dad, it's okay, I called Tim. He'll be here in 20 minutes."

"Can we at least have a man to man for a few minutes?"

"Sure," Jason grumbled.

"Jay ... your mom ... your mom loves you and she wants what's best but -- " his dad sighed. "This has been really, really hard on her and -- "

"Hard on _her_? I think it's been a little bit harder on some of us than on others," Jason snapped.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is, if it turns out we can afford it, I'll back you. But, I have concerns, son, I mean, are they equipped to handle a person with your kind of needs?"

_The founder of the school is a fucking paraplegic, Dad, I should think so._ "Dad, why don't you call them and double check?" Pause. "Thank you."

"I love you too, son, and ... it's different for men, but it doesn't mean that I'm going to find it strange to have an empty nest."

"You'll get used to it. And ... you and Mom can find other things to do. Or," Jason gave a wicked grin, "you could have Tim move in, if you think that will help."

His dad looked horrified for a moment then laughed, then looked horrified again and said, "Don't even think of saying that where your mother might hear. She just might actually take you up on that. And I like Tim, I know he's like a brother to you, but ...."

Jason laughed.

~oo(0)oo~

"So, I'm wondering what I should do, Mrs. Taylor. Just finish out my school year there, or cram like mad for the GED and start college."

Tami Taylor steepled her hands in thought for a moment, then said, "I'm going to vote for GED, and here's why. Say you get up there and it doesn't work out and you come back. That puts you way behind on your diploma. But if you get a GED you can just apply to a Junior College and then transfer to a four year school."

~oo(0)oo~

His father took a look at Jason's letter of acceptance from the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. "Twelve thousand dollars a year for tuition and board, payable monthly, quarterly, semi-annually, or annually? I think we can swing that." He flashed a huge smile at Jason.

"But what about plane tickets, I mean, can we all afford to fly up there?"

"Perhaps we could drive," his father mused.

"Mom, Dad. Um ... perhaps I should go by myself. Say my goodbyes here. I mean, I think it would be best for me to make kind of a clean break."

His mother nodded sadly and smiled as two tears spilled down her cheeks. "My ba-" Jason glared at her. "My son, going out into the world ...." She dried her eyes and smiled at him proudly.

~oo(0)oo~

"Well, no sir, I haven't bought a plane ticket yet."

"I'm going to be giving a presentation on human evolution at UTA in about two weeks. I'll be flying down in my private plane. There's no reason you can't fly back with me. You'll be able to take more of your personal belongings that way, too. What do you say?"

"I-I, well ... I'm flabbergasted, Professor Xavier."

"Call me Professor X, Jason. All the students do."

"Well, thanks again, Professor X, that's -- I'll tell my parents right away. That's so cool -- I mean generous of you."

"It's cool, too. I'll email you the details." Pause. "I'm looking forward to meeting you in person, Jason."

"Yeah. I mean, I'm really looking forward to meeting you too, and going to school and meeting everybody and thank you again, sir."

~oo(0)oo~

"It's not my birthday, Six," Tim said, looking down uncertainly at the present Jason had very laboriously wrapped for him.

"I know that. Just ... open it, okay?"

Tim goggled at the prepaid cell phone and minutes cards.

"I know it's not really a fancy one, but it's not like I'm made of money. It's just ... I know you don't have a lot of people you can talk to, and I still want to be one of them, you know?"

Tim didn't say anything. Just hugged Jason so hard he could barely breathe.

"And I'm going to be calling you, too, Riggs. Just because I'm in New York for the next four doesn't mean we still don't have Texas forever."

Tim hugged him again. "Texas forever, Six, I mean it," he whispered in Jason's ear.

~oo(0)oo~

"Look, Lyla, can I just talk to you for a few moments?"

"Sure," she replied in a voice as cool as a January morning.

Inwardly Jason rolled his eyes. Outwardly he sighed and said, "Lyla, I'm sorry for how it ended between us. I'm sorry we stepped on each other's hearts. But ... we went through a lot together over these past four years and, it would've felt wrong to leave town without talking to you, so -- "

"We're talking." She gave a brittle smile.

"Things that bad at home?"

"No ... it's just ... you going like this, it's just more of everything changing on me and I feel so " she sighed, "helpless sometimes."

"You'll get through. You'll see." He said and squeezed her hand gently.

~oo(0)oo~

"You just make sure you show them wussy NY boys how we play the manly sport of Murderball down here in Texas." Herc said, holding up a bottle of Shiner Bock.

Jason toasted it with his bottle of Lone Star and replied, "Well, somebody's got to school 'em, Herc."

"Damn, I'm going to miss you, Sparky," Herc said after guzzling down about a quarter of his bottle and belching softly. "But I'll tell you another thing, if you had even thought of saying no, I'd've kicked your ass. I mean, a snooty college asking after _you_, and not the other way 'round? An opportunity not to be missed."

Jason piffed. "Don't get too complacent, Herc. I'll be back in a few years, and next time I'll be on that squad, giving your geriatric ass a hard time."

Herc snorted and flipped him the bird.

~oo(0)oo~

"Well, I guess this is it then," His mother dabbed at her cheeks as they all stood on the tarmac looking a small, sleek black jet emblazoned with the Xavier Institute logo on the wings and tail.

"Don't cry, Mom," Jason said, blinking back a few of his own tears, "it's really all for the best."

His dad ruffled his hair. "And this way, you get to bring your quad rugby chair."

Jason laughed at that.

"Call when you get there."

"Will do."

Jason gave his parents one last set of hugs then wheeled toward the special ramp at the back of the jet. Professor X had offered to let them all say their good byes inside the plane, but Jason said he'd rather do it outside the plane, because he wanted it to be associated with heading towards a happy future, not with sad goodbyes.

Jason wheeled aboard to find Professor X accompanied by a handsome, brown-haired, athletic looking man who wore a pair of very unusual sunglasses with wraparound ruby red lenses.

"Jason," Professor X said, "this is Scott Summers. In addition to being the primary person flying us home today, he teaches geometry and oversees our athletic instruction. You'll be working with him."

Jason held out his hand and Scott shook it, grip firm. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Summers. I'm looking forward to working with you."

Scott's teeth were blindingly white as he smiled, "Scott. Same here. I sure could use some help with our program. We don't do anything competitive, but ... coaching's coaching and if you can get a grip on the students here, you'll be able to handle anything, anytime, anywhere."

"Yeah."

Just as Scott knelt to latch Jason's chair into place, there was a loud "Ahem."

"Ah," said Professor X with a smile in his voice, "This is our co-pilot, working on logging a few more miles so he can get his IFR certification, Logan."

Logan was a little taller and a little more powerfully built than Scott, with bushy dark hair, long sideburns and a stare like a blue-eyed wolf. He nodded a hello.

"Logan is our martial arts instructor."

Jason gave a rueful snort. "I don't think I'll be doing much of that."

"I dunno." Logan shrugged "You still got enough upper body strength to throw a punch?"

Jason gave him a level stare. "Yeah. As a matter of fact, I blackened an eye a few months back."

Logan gave a sharky grin. "Then you can still fight. I can show you what to do in the chair and how to fight back if you get knocked out of it."

"What? Bite ankles?"

"If you have to." He dropped and lay on the floor next to Scott. "Right now I can think of several things I could do from this position to incapacitate Scott here."

"Logan," Professor X said, a note of warning in his voice.

Scott piffed at Logan. "You try anything and you'll be walking home."

"Given that the alternative is spending the next four hours with you, while you nitpick my every move, that's not exactly a threat." Logan grinned almost feraly.

Scott gave Professor X a plaintive look. "You see what I mean when I say he's insufferable?"

"Scott," Professor X said in a slightly exasperated tone.

"Are we there yet?" Jason whined in an effort to break the tension.

"No." Logan said, shooting to his feet in a smooth, whip-fast motion, "And if you keep asking, I'm turning this plane around and there'll be no trip to the X-Mansion." He clapped Scott on the back. "C'mon Boy Scout, let's get this crate in the air."

"It's not a crate." Scott muttered darkly under his breath as he turned and followed Logan towards the cockpit.

"Are they always like that?" Jason whispered as soon as they were in the cockpit.

Professor X gave a long suffering sigh and said, "Believe it or not, they've gotten better about working with each other. The flight down ...." He massaged at his temples with his fingers, "I'm a telepath. Four hours trying to block out their bickering and snarking tested the limits of both my gift and my patience."

Jason smirked. "So, um, if they want to invite me to the cockpit to see how they fly the plane?"

"You might accidentally touch something." Professor X raised an eyebrow.

Inwardly Jason groaned. Despite several really unpleasant experiences, he still found himself forgetting that even casual touches could hammer him with a barrage of information. "Just say no," he said wryly.

Professor X looked at Jason's hands. "We'll have to see about getting you some gloves or mitts made ... hopefully that will be enough to block your psychometric abilities until you learn -- if you can learn to control them. Your gift might not have an on-off switch, you know, some don't."

"It doesn't seem to so far," Jason sighed. "And, is that the word for what I am? A psychometric?"

Professor X gave him a warm smile. "Yes."

"It ... feels good to have a name for it."


	2. Chapter 2

"You can go ahead and ask me, Jason."

"What?"

"You're burning to ask a question -- no, I'm not reading your mind -- the way you keep glancing at me and shifting in your chair tells me."

Jason sucked in a deep breath. "Two questions, actually. One, how did ... it happen, why are you in a chair? And how did you um ... come out to your parents and friends?"

Professor X looked at Jason, his blue eyes sober, and replied, "The chair. In my youth I was ... something of a swashbuckler, you might say. Active in causes, roaming the world, searching for adventure. I took on a --" his voice tightened "very unpleasant chap, completely underestimated him, and ended up with a broken back. T6, in case you're curious. As for the other ... my parents died before I could tell them and most of my friends have found out over the years. You might say it's how I found out who my friends really were. Have you -- no, I can tell -- you haven't told your parents yet."

Jason shook his head.

"You do know they will find out some day."

Jason nodded, throat tight.

"I wish I could tell you that all will be well, but --"

"Some parents haven't handled it very well, have they?" Jason found himself liking the fact that the Professor didn't try and sugar coat things.

Heavy sigh. "No."

"And Scott and Logan, how have their families -- "

"Scott and his brother Alex -- whom you will meet, he's your age -- were both orphaned as children. And Logan? Logan has had such extensive alterations to his memory -- I don't know how and I don't know who -- I hesitate to enter his mind even with his permission, and has no idea if he has family at all."

"Oh."

Professor X smiled, his eyes warm, "But it's not all bad news, Jason. For all the tragedies, I can point to students whose parents never had a problem with the change, or students whose parents learned to accept it. Your parents and friends could very well be the former."

~oo(0)oo~

The first week passed in pretty much a blur for Jason. Trying to remember everybody's names. Trying to learn the layout of the mansion and massive (underground!) building complex. Screaming in pain and passing out when he accidentally touched the exam table in the med lab.Tests. Endless rounds of tests about his powers before they would even begin his course of study. Safety reasons, you see. They had to know.

His power had no on-off. It only worked through his hands. He could detect down to moderate levels of psychic residue. Solids, specifically stone or metal, held emotions and thoughts better, but if the psychic impression was very strong, or saturated (like the exam table in the med lab or the P in the Panthers locker room) it could overwhelm him. He could tell the names (or at least how they thought of themselves) of people who had touched an item. Logan, for instance, thought of himself as "Wolvie" about 50% of the time, depending on his mood. Cloth was sufficient barrier to prevent him from "reading" an object. Jason experimented with putting socks over his hands after finding that out.

For practical intents and purposes, he was like a telepath who couldn't turn off his powers. And after Jason found out that Alex (a very gifted athlete) pitied him when he picked up a volleyball Alex had been playing with, Jason kept the socks on his hands as much as possible. (Jean ruffled his hair sympathetically. "It always hurts to find out what people think of you. And in cases like ours, we have even more chances to stumble on to it.")

To protect Jason's sanity as well as people's privacy, everything he used was his. He had his own desk. His own laptop. His own dorm room (most students had to share). His own set of dishes and utensils. And on his first day of regular classes, Professor X handed him a pair of mitts. Thin spandex with grippy rubber on the palms, and slit across the back to form a flap that closed with a velcroed tab.

"You know I might read something off these when I put them on."

"I'm very aware of that, Jason." Professor X smiled.

Jason tugged the socks off with his teeth and gingerly reached for the mitts in his lap. "Relief," Jason said, "that mine is an easily accommodated power. But I can just barely detect that." He pulled the first mitt on. Oh yeah. And that velcroed slit-tab thing across the back meant he could easily pop his hands in and out when he needed to touch something or use his hands to do things that the mitts wouldn't allow him enough freedom to do. And the other cool thing about them? They didn't automatically mark him as a mutant, after all, there were several other practical reasons that a quad like him might want to have a pair of grippy mitts on his hands.

If nothing else they made holding the escrima sticks Logan was training him to use easier. ("As if I'm ever going to be out in the field, striking a blow for mutant rights." Logan snorted at him and said, "You never know. Plan for the worst and all your surprises will be pleasant.")

It wasn't until the middle of week two that he felt homesick enough to call Tim. And it was good to hear a familiar voice, and laugh at the old in-jokes. Plus, hearing that Landry was completely bald at the moment because of a bet he'd made with Tim concerning a paper? ("Well, shit, Jay, if I didn't get an A, it was going to be my head under the clippers. You bet your ass I never worked so hard on anything in my life.") Had Jason chortling for hours after.

But at the same time, Jason couldn't really talk to Tim about what was really eating him. Which, of course, brought an ache all of its own.

~oo(0)oo~

"Spill it, Jason," Scott said, sitting down next to him on the grass just after Jason had finished half coaching, half refereeing a "no powers" game of volleyball.

"This is really going to sound like whining. Are you sure you want to hear it?

"Maybe not. But your need to vent is more important."

Jason huffed and said, "I have such a retarded power."

Scott laughed. "Mine's pretty damn retarded, too, if you think about it."

"Zing. But, I mean, in my mitts, I sit here and I'm just a guy in a chair. I can't run, or fly, or turn to living steel, or lift objects just by thinking about it, or change channels with my mind, or," Jason gave Scott a meaningful look, "cause mass destruction just by lowering my shades. My power isolates me. Everybody's afraid of me, not in the same way that they're afraid of Alex or Logan, but I can tell that nobody wants to touch me, even though I can't read their minds that way, and it's not like I'm Rogue or something.

"And I'm not going to say that _she _ doesn't have a majorly sucktacular primary power, but, Scott, if you --if you could've seen the joy in her eyes as she jumped to make that serve and discovered she could fly now ...."

"Who knows, you might discover you can, too."

"Well, it will make transferring from the chair to the bed a hell of a lot easier, plus, when my arms get tired, I'd have another way to get around, but flying around, looking like puppet with its strings cut? Okay, doofy looking or not, yeah, I'd take it in a heartbeat.

"But, I _hate_ sitting here, feeling like I've got this power that's got no real use, that would probably get my not very defensible quad-ass beat to a pulp if the wrong people found out "

"Which is why Logan's going to be hard on you. People will think you're completely defenseless, which you will learn to use to your advantage."

Jason rolled his eyes and gave a rueful chortle. "God, you never stop thinking like did, back when I was QB1. 'How am I going to spin this here straw into gold?'"

Scott glanced over at him and said, "Your power's not useless, Jason. Far from it."

"Yeah, because I'm so going to be out there, making the world safe for everybody, like this. I'm not like you, or Logan, or Alex, or even little Jubilee. I'm gimpy ass passive power man. Okay, I can snark. I'll sit on the sidelines and try and channel my friend Herc and hurl withering put-downs."

Scott drew in a deep breath, held it for a beat, then blew it out in a long rush. "Jason, shut up and listen," he said in an 'I mean business' tone. "No, you're never going to be out there, on the front lines of the good fight. But it's not always fought that way. When Professor X and Jean use their powers, it's active. It can be detected, looked for, blocked. But you? They'd have to drug you or knock you out to stop your power. They'd have to be actively scanning your mind to know that you've got a power or that you're using it when you touch something. Do you know what your power is, Jason?

"Psychometric."

"No, it's the power of secrets. Provided it's strong enough for you to detect, there's not a way to block against your power. In a certain way, nobody can shield their mind from you. That young mutant girl who was murdered down in Mexico last week? If we found the murder weapon, or something else that the killer touched, you'd be able to tell us who it was and why they did it."

Inwardly Jason shuddered at the thought of what he might find if he ever used his gifts at a crime scene.

"But there's more," Scott continued. "Professor X and Jean and Dr. McCoy spend a lot of time in Washington D.C. lobbying for Mutant Rights. Now, imagine being able to know --because they touched a pen or a piece of paper --if somebody was negotiating in good faith, or if they were even who we thought they were, because there's a very powerful one of us out there and she can mimic _anyone _, and she sells her gifts to the highest bidder.

"And yes, as awful as it is that most people look right past you, Jason, that makes you invisible for practical intents and purposes. You can be using your gifts in public and it's going to take a very sharply peeled set of eyes to see it.

"So, don't think your gift is lame or weak, or stupid, Jason. It's probably going to do a hell of a lot more to help people than the ability to shoot laser beams out of my eyes ever will. Think on that, and we'll talk some more." Scott stood up, dusted the winter browned grass off the bottom of his jeans and walked away about as briskly as Logan was headed over.

Nobody would ever flat out tell Jason what it was with Scott and Logan. Jason knew it had something to do with the fact that Jean and Logan were seeing each other, but Jason wasn't sure he wanted to go touching doorknobs or clothes or something else to find that out. He supposed he could just ask, but who? Jason didn't know who he could trust yet. He didn't want it to get back to Scott, Jean, or Logan.

Logan flopped down on the grass next to him, all plaid flannel shirt and sheepskin jean jacket, and said, "So what did Captain Killjoy have to say?"

Jason smiled enigmatically and replied, "What I needed to hear."

"Huh," Logan grunted.

~oo(0)oo~

"So, I spot you, yes, and you speak to me English, and I improve." Piotr said as he crouched down on the bench next to Jason.

Jason smiled not unkindly at the big Russian Fine Arts major and said, "Well, seeing as how this is a bowflex? It's not like I strictly need a spotter, but what I do need is a lifting buddy."

"Lifting buddy?"

"Yeah, somebody to help push me to do those last five reps when my arms are screaming tired."

Piotr grinned. "That I can do. But you must do for me, too, yes?"

"We've got a deal." He held out his mitt covered hand.

There was only the briefest hesitation before Piotr took it. "I have very much strength. Your hands are your power. I do not want to give hurt to them."

"You're an artist. You should be more worried about people gripping them too hard." Jason tightened his grip a little to make the point

Piotr glanced down at him. "I am not much worried about people giving to me a hurt hand."

Jason started when he realized that Piotr's hand had turned metallic

Piotr smiled "I am living steel. Is useful sometimes."

~oo(0)oo~

A short sharp knock at the door caused Jason to look up from the diet and exercise worksheets he was laboriously filling out. Having to learn how to write all over again? Sucked majorly, and his new handwriting looked, at best, like a fourth grader's. "What?"

"It's Kitty and Paige. Can we come in?"

Jason sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

Kitty Pryde and Paige Guthrie ... he couldn't make heads or tails of them. Scott had said it was a relief to finally have the teenaged girls start crushing after somebody else. But Jason didn't think they were crushing after him. He really wasn't quite sure what they wanted, since they talked about other boys about as much as they teased and flirted and giggled with him, and, well, Paige was 14 and Kitty was 16, and even though Jason was only a few calendar years older than them? It felt more like six or seven sometimes. They might have crushed on Scott, but Jason figured they saw him more like a big brother.

"Come on in girls," he called out.

Kitty phased Paige and herself through the door. As often as Jason saw her do it, it never ceased to amaze him to the point of smiling. He had met Kitty a few days after he arrived. Her bed was right above his and she had phased in her sleep. Jason went to roll himself over in the middle of the night and discovered Kitty draped across his legs.

"Jason, can you ... do a reading for me?" Kitty held out a small envelope.

"You know I'm not supposed to," he said hesitantly. "What is it?"

"Kitty's got herself a beau," Paige said in her thick Appalachian accent, "only he's a secret admirer."

Jason thought about it for a few moments. He knew that Kitty had a mad crush on Bobby, but ... if it wasn't Bobby? What then? Or even worse, what if it was Bobby flashing hot and cold between her and Rogue? "Alright," he sighed, "but no guarantees. It might be somebody you can't stand. It might even be a joke." He held out his hand and started laughing a split second later. "No go, Kitty. All I can feel is you and Paige all excited and giggly. Paper doesn't hold thoughts or emotions that well, I mean, it can, but you pretty much wiped out just about everything else, except ... I think this guy thinks you're graceful."

"Rats."

"Yeah," Jason said, flipping the card over in his hands. "It's kind of strange how impersonal this is. No handwriting, nothing unique. He's too shy to tell you to his face and you'd probably recognize his handwriting so he's very secretive about this."

"So, it's a mystery, then." Kitty frowned.

"Yeah." _Yeah, it is ... and if I'm going to learn to use my powers to investigate and uncover secrets, why not start here? _ "I'll, uh, try and keep my hands peeled, okay?"

They laughed at that.

~oo(0)oo~

Scott found him in the gym, idly wheeling around in his quad rugby chair, banging it against the walls or the doorjamb from time to time.

"I, uh, heard," he said softly.

Jason gave heavy, hitching, sigh and hated it. He was one step away from tears and he was not going to cry in front of Scott. He buried his head in his hands and said, "It's just one more thing that's been taken away from me, is all. My body from the pits down, football, toilet training, pretty much my whole sex life, and now quad-rugby."

"But you have to understand -- "

"Yes!" Jason shouted, "I understand why! I completely understand why! I can say that I'm psychometric until I'm blue in the face and there's no way to prove that that's what I really am, that I'm not manipulating the game somehow with some gift I'm not telling them about. USOC rules, no mutants allowed! Yes, Scott, I know that, and it doesn't help.

"I _loved _ football, Scott. Being out there, on the field, with the team, knowing how to use their strengths and weaknesses, outsmarting the other team, sometimes just plain outgunning them, knowing that I could _nail_ the 18 option pass --that's something that not every Division I college QB can do -- and I could ...." Jason's breath came out in a broken rush.

In a tiny voice he continued, "Quad-Rugby, it was like getting football back, and now it's gone, too."

Scott slid his glasses off and rubbed idly at the bridge of his nose. Jason noticed that he kept his eyes screwed tightly shut, as if he somehow feared that just closing the lids weren't enough. He replaced his glasses and said, "I wish I had some glib bit of advice to say to you. It's different for each of us, but we've all had something that we loved or really wanted taken away from us because of ... how we are."

His sincerity moved Jason. He cleared his throat and said, "Look, Scott, I'll get over this. I will. I have to. It's just that I'm going to be a cranky bitch about it for the next few days."

"Well, that may be so," Logan called from the doorway, "but your cranky bitch ass has a date with a speedbag." He sauntered in.

"Captain Couth, as ever," Scott remarked under his breath.

"What the hell kind of chair is that?" Logan asked, seeing Jason's quad-rugby rig.

"It's a quad-rugby chair ... but I guess I'll be selling it, because I won't be playing quad-rugby anymore."

Logan's eyebrows raised and then his forehead furrowed in thought. "I say keep it ... it's pretty badass looking. I think I may have an idea forming in the back of my head."

"That'll be a first," Scott said.

Jason goggled as razor-sharp, slightly curved blade extended from Logan's fist, right above the middle finger. "Sit and spin, Scott."

Scott rolled his eyes at Logan, then crouched down and said to Jason, "Look, Jason, the door's always open if you need to talk."

~oo(0)oo~

"So, um ... what are your abilities?" Jason asked to break the silence as he and Logan headed towards the gym.

"Sharper than average sight, taste, and hearing, much sharper than average sense of smell -- which believe you me, makes even our little locker room a nightmare sometimes -- my claws of course, but the big things are that my bones were enhanced with adamantium and I've got super healing." He held out his hand for Jason to see. "Look, healed already."

"So. Like ... you cut your hands open every time your knife things ...?"

"Claws. Yup."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"Well, duh!" Logan laughed at him. "But it heals almost instantly so it's not really a problem, is it?"

"Like ... how much do you heal?"

"A lot. But it's not like I go looking for things I think might be able to kill me, not any more. Much. Enough talk. You ever work a speedbag before?"

"No."

"Okay, it's not about hitting it hard. It's about building a rhythm, it's about finesse, endurance."

"Because I'm so going to climb into the ring."

Logan crouched down and fixed him with a steely glare. "Boy, you are already in the ring. You've been in the ring the moment you went active."

~oo(0)oo~

Jason wheeled into Professor X's office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Are you planning to go home for Spring Break, Jason?"

Jason frowned in thought. "I hadn't really thought about that, sir. Do I have to?"

"No. A lot of our students stay on, but some go home, and several of the staff or the older students take trips to the gulf-coast or other places. I thought you might want to see your family and your friends. I know that you call them often."

"Yeah, well ...."

"Your parents are going to find out some time."

Jason groaned and said, "Look, yes. I know that they will. But ... can't it just wait until after I turn 18? That's going to happen in July."

"You need to face your fears, Jason."

"Do you know what I'm really afraid of right now? I mean, yeah, I'm afraid they'll disown me."

"And if that happens, you'll have a place here. You know that, Jason," Professor X chided softly.

"But I'm just as afraid that they'll ... stop me from coming back. That I'll be sent to one of those dumb ass camps where they sedate you heavily and try to pray the mutie away, or worse yet, I'll get sent to some quack who'll tell them he can 'cure' me. I'm their kid. I'm seventeen. They can do that to me. And the thought of that is even scarier because, I really can't do much to bust out, can I? I mean, I know this is a horrible thing to think about your parents," Jason's voice went all shuddery, "but there it is."

Professor X steepled his fingers in thought. "I hadn't really thought about that, not really being able to escape. Funny, given that I've been in this chair longer than your parents have been alive."

"Yeah, but you also have a power that lets you attack people. Me? Not so much."

"What do you plan to tell your parents?"

"That I have a really big project that I want to work on and that I'll be happy to come home and visit at the end of July. Hell, I'll even celebrate birthday number 18 at home, but only if you promise to come looking for me if I don't come back when I'm supposed to."


	3. Chapter 3

The call came a little after 12:30am on a Saturday morning.

"Hey Six, guess where I am."

"Huh?" Jason said, scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Tim?"

"Well, yeah. Now guess where I am?"

"Obviously not in Dillon."

"I'm outside the gates of 1407 Graymalkin lane, about to hop the wall."

Sick panic washed over Jason. Tim had no idea what the security here was like. It was a disaster waiting to happen. "Fuck. Um ... give me a few minutes to get up and wheel my ass out there. You _do not_ want set off the alarms here. They're louder than fuck."

"Your school has alarms? That's too rich."

"Look, just stay put." Jason set his phone down and flailed his way into his chair. "Just let me get dressed." He pulled on the heaviest hooded sweatshirt he could find, transferred back to bed and slid on fleece bottoms, then back into the chair to put shoes and socks on. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, Six, I'm still here." There was a note of bemused exasperation in Tim's voice.

"I'm hanging up now. You'll see me in a few minutes." _Fuck fuck fuck, Tim's going to find out and on top of that I'm going to get my ass reamed for having an uncleared guest on campus._

"You know, I wasn't really going to climb the wall, Streeter," Tim said when Jason finally got to him. "I didn't have a way to get this over," Tim continued, indicating the pint of whiskey in one hand and the 12 pack in the other.

In spite of everything, some things never changed. Jason found that idea slightly amusing and even a little calming to the tension headache beginning to throb at the base of his skull and the acid churning through his stomach. He punched his pin into the gate and let Tim in. "Tim, what are you doing here?!" he hissed.

"Spring break, Six."

Jason buried his head in his hands. Just like Tim to get a notion in his head and act on it. "Does Billy know?"

Tim smirked. "That I'm taking a road trip for spring break? Yeah. Only he thinks I'm partying down in Galveston."

"You chose New York over Galveston?"

"I've missed you, Six," Tim whispered, eyes downcast. "It's good calling you and all, but it's not the same."

"Yeah," Jason sighed, "it isn't the same. C'mon, I know a quiet place where we can sit and catch up. And did you just get here?"

Tim flashed him a wicked grin. "I stopped off in a tavern back in Salem, ended up hustling a little pool."

Jason groaned.

"Won $500. Dude was _pissed _ but he paid. It's all good." Tim shrugged.

"Cool." Jason patted a bench next to him. "So, tell me about life in Dillon. What's really going on?"

"Well, I'm helping coach Bo's pee-wee team and --" Tim did a spit take and choked on his beer. "J-J-J-Jason? Di-did I just see guy with wings fly out of that window?!"

_Fuck_. Jason buried his head in his hands and counted to three before saying, "Yes, Tim, you did."

"What the fuck?!"

Jason had rehearsed a couple of speeches for moments like this. He even thought a few of them were Coach Taylor level good. However none of them came out of his mouth. "Tim, I'm a mutant," did.

Tim's eyes flew open in shock. "Jay?"

Sigh. "Yes." He ran his hands over his face. "Well?"

"Shut up, I'm thinking." And then Tim gave him a down right pissed look. "Why didn't you tell me, Jason?"

Jason had to laugh at that. "I dunno, Tim, maybe because I'm kind of fucking scared about the whole thing. I don't know who's going to be cool with it and who's ... not. And if somebody's not cool? Like, really, _really_ not cool about it? It's not like I'm exactly in a position to make a quick getaway."

Tim nodded, opened the whiskey, chugged, shuddered, took another slug, and said, "So, um, what can you do?"

"Wait, you -- so you're cool with --"

Tim laughed. "Why shouldn't I be? You're still you, Jay. You're still the guy who's my best friend. I've got your back man, always." He belched softly and said, "So, is it like X-ray vision or fireballs or something?"

Jason poked his hand out of the mitt and said, "Gimme a slug of that, and I'll tell you." Inwardly he reeled as the emotion slammed into him. After taking a good, serious-burn inducing chug, Jason wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "When I first told you, you were scared shitless, then hurt that I didn't trust you, and even now you're still trying to wrap your head around this. You're trying to put up a good front because you love me and you don't want to hurt me even though you're scared spitless of how this might change things."

Tim's mouth opened and closed several times.

"I'm a psychometric, Tim. That's the fancy word for it. Depending on how strong the thought or emotion or both is, I can read it off an object that person touches. I know what you were thinking and feeling while you held the bottle." Jason tucked his hand back inside the mitt. "It means I can read your mind, sort of, and that there's not a damn thing you can do to block it, because even if you had had gloves on, you'd've left the same psychic impressions on that bottle." Jason took another short, sharp nip of whiskey. "So, now that you know what I can do, do you still want to be my friend?"

Tim slid to his knees in front of Jason. "Six," he whispered, stricken.

"I pretty much keep these on 24-7," Jason said holding up his hands. "I can only do it with my bare hands. I don't want to know what most people are thinking or feeling about as much as they don't want me to know. I've had some bad experiences with accidentally finding out what people really thought or felt about me."

Tim gave a deep, huffing sigh, the chill of the night air just barely tingeing it with frost. "We're still cool." He took Jason's gloved hands in his, stroking them softly with his thumbs. "I mean it, Jay."

Jason blinked back tears as he choked out in a broken whisper, "You have no idea how much that helps, Tim."

Tim squeezed his hands for a moment then said, "So, um, when did ...?"

"Remember when I blacked out right before State as we were boarding the buses?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I basically got every bit of emotion that had accumulated in that P for ... several years at least."

"Shiiiit," Tim breathed.

"Yeah. Apparently I set off some serious shockwaves in the Astral Plane which is how Professor X found me."

"So, um ..." Tim cast his eyes down and chewed his lip in thought. "is everybody here like --"

"Yeah, we're all mutants, which is why the security here is so tight. If you had just hopped the fence? All hell would've broken loose."

Tim laughed. "It's a good thing you got me the phone, then."

Tim climbed back on the bench and they drank in silence for a few more moments, and just as Jason turned to Tim to suggest that he get his stuff from the truck so they could turn in, a voice came out of the bushes behind them.

"Mind telling me how you know this guy, Jason?"

They both started.

"Jesus, Logan, you like to scared the piss out of me ..." Jason swallowed hard. "Tim this is Logan, Logan, this is Tim Riggins --"

"We've met," they said in unison.

Jason goggled. "What?!"

Tim shuffled his feet. "You know how I said I won $500 off a guy? This is the guy."

Jason threw back his head and howled with laughter before saying, "You beat _Logan_?! Hot damn, Tim, because Logan's good at pool. Only Scott's better."

Logan frowned. "He just got lucky."

Tim's look said otherwise.

_Oh, this could go south really fast._ "Logan, do you think we should set Scott up against Tim?"

Logan's scowl shifted into something sneakily amused. He fingered his chin for a moment and said, "In a hustle, no, Scott's too much of a boy scout for that. But for bragging rights? Possibly. Kid did beat me and it wasn't like I was having a bad night or was extra drunk." Logan reached for one of the beers. In answer to Tim's look he replied, "You rooked me for 500, at least you can give me a beer. In fact, since the two of you are underage, I'll just have to take the rest of them."

Jason sighed.

Logan gave them a wolfish grin. "And the bottle of whiskey I smell, too. Or I'll tell Scott."

"You're a heartless bastard," Jason said.

"And don't forget it." Logan flashed an ear to ear grin.

"So, who's Scott?" Tim asked.

"He's my mentor," Jason explained. "Oversees athletics here."

Logan chugged a beer, belched, and said, "Jason's completely failed to mention that he's also the geometry teacher and that he can calculate angles and ricochets on the fly like nobody else I've ever seen."

"Why, Logan, that actually sounded like a compliment." Jason grinned. To Tim he said, "Scott and Logan, they don't get along. No one's really ever told me why."

"Oh, that's simple," Logan replied, popping the top on another beer. "He's a dick and I'm not."

Jason piffed at him.

"And he's of the opinion that I stole his girl. I'm of the opinion that she saw me and traded up."

"Aha." Jason said. "Falling out over a girl? Been there, done that, have the shitty T-shirt." He punched Tim in the arm.

"Huh?" Logan glanced between them.

Tim sighed, and said, "Long story, but I slept with Jason's ex-girlfriend, Lyla. Only she wasn't his ex at the time."

Logan looked at Tim for a long moment and said, "Well, no guy with your taste in clothes can be all bad." Jason looked and laughed when he realized that Tim and Logan had almost identical clothes on: plaid flannel shirts, shearling lined jean jackets, blue jeans, and boots. Logan took another swallow of his beer. "So bros before hos?"

"No!" they said together.

"Lyla's not --"

"Don't ever talk --"

Logan held up his hand in a placating gesture, "Okay, okay, forget I even opened my mouth. Let me guess, it's 'complicated'?"

Tim nodded.

Logan hmmd, guzzled the can dry, and said, "Well, as much as I'd like to stay up and drink and shoot the breeze with you, I think it's a good time for all of us to head in."

"Um, Logan," Jason said hesitantly, "is it going to be too much of a problem for Tim to stay here ... at least for tonight?"

Logan yawned and said, "Don't worry, I'll smooth it out with the old man and the boy scout."

~oo(0)oo~

Waking up with Tim snuggled into him? Brought back memories of old sleepovers. Though it had been about, oh, 8 years since he and Tim had spent the night on the hide-a-bed in the living room (after making a fort out of the cushions, of course) some things never changed, like the fact that Tim snuggled into you as if his body heat could compensate for the fact that he stole all the blankets. And the fact that, oh, about 80% of Jason's body couldn't feel anything didn't do much for the fact that his left shoulder and arm could tell that they were really, really cold.

Even though Jason could see that it was already light out behind the drapes, he didn't want to wake up just yet. He reached over as best he could to try and snag the comforter and Tim just sighed and snuggled a little harder, draping an arm over Jason's torso, and the ... intimacy ... of the contact after pretty much not being touched for a few months now? Jason felt the heat surge through his body and just _knew_ he was hard with something other than the usual morning wood and he was pretty sure that Tim's stiffy -- maybe morning wood, maybe not -- was digging into his thigh, and another surge slammed through his body, making him shiver.

For a split second Tim roused into a sludgy state of semi consciousness. His eyes slitted open, and the sleepy, warm satisfaction Jason saw lurking in their green-gold depths made him think of a cat. Tim pulled Jason even closer and nuzzled -- Jason had no other word for it -- at Jason's shoulder for a split second before giving another sigh and sinking back into slumber.

Mind awhirl, Jason stared up at the ceiling. He knew ... well, he'd never actually heard the words (because he'd never asked a direct question) but, he was pretty damn sure that Tim had, or had had feelings for him and ...

... Jason realized that he had feelings back a long time ago, but ....

He was saved from having to deal with that by Professor X's sudden voice in his head. ::Jason. You're awake. Good. I need to talk to you.::

Sigh. _Yeah, I know, Professor. Um ... sorry? I'll explain more. Just give me about 20 minutes to get ready._

::Very well.::

_Professor? Can you wake Tim up? _

::Why?::

_Humor me? I mean, given everything else that's about to go down, can't I at least have a laugh? _

Stern. ::Okay. Just this once.::

Jason had no idea what Professor X said, or what it sounded like, but hearing Tim shriek in shock and seeing him all but levitate out of bed, get tangled in the blankets he'd stolen, and crash to the floor?

So worth it.

~oo(0)oo~

"So it's good with Tim?" Jason asked Professor X as soon he rolled back in the door. Professor X asked to speak to Tim alone for about 10 minutes after the two of them explained what had happened the night before, and then he'd sent Tim out to bring Jason in so he could speak privately with him.

Professor X pinched at the bridge of his nose for a few seconds and said. "He's a deeply troubled young man, your friend."

"Yeah." Jason sighed.

"And in desperate need of your friendship."

"That's nothing new." Jason put his head in his hands. He loved Tim like a brother but, he wasn't his brother's keeper. And therein lay the problem.

Professor X picked up a paperclip from the tray on his desk and began bending it. "You worry about him, don't you? I didn't pry, of course, but something's weighing heavily on him now, and should he share it with you, I should hope that you will find it in you to be as accepting of him as he is of you."

_Tim and secrets. That's nothing new._ Jason rubbed his hands together. "So, that's not a problem, then, really, my being a mutant? He says it's okay, but --"

"Well, he's a little nervous and unsure of who he might meet and what he might see here, but," Professor X smiled a softly, "but I don't think there will be any problems, and he understands about not outing you or talking too much about the particulars of the Institute. He's welcome to stay here for the next few days."

Jason heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

~oo(0)oo~

He found Tim downstairs in the breakfast nook, answering questions from the twins while trying to spoon down a bowl of Raisin Total.

"You really don't have a power?" asked Tommy.

"Nope."

"How come?" Asked Billy.

Tim shrugged. "Probably for the same reason you two look the same, but one of you has blonde hair and the other has brown. I just don't. That's all."

"Professor X says that we'll get powers someday," Billy said very solemnly.

Tim chugged some orange juice. "That's nice."

Jason wheeled over. "My, you two are full of questions this morning."

Tim smiled at him and said, "Something tells me they're always full of questions."

Jason had to laugh at that. Five year old Tommy and his twin brother, Billy, had arrived about two weeks ago. There was some sort of secret attached to their arrival, only Professor X, Scott, and Jean, and maybe Logan and Ororo seemed to know the whole story. All the rest of them knew is that there were two very active kindergartners at the school, one fiery and impulsive with silvery blonde hair and grey-blue eyes, the other quiet and shy with dark brown hair and big dark eyes, and that their powers had not yet manifested.

"Are we bothering you?" Tommy asked, looking like he already knew the answer.

Tim ruffled his hair. "Not at all, blondie. Here." He pulled back from the table and scooped Tommy up to straddle one leg.

"Me too!" Billy shouted, and Tim scooped him up to straddle the other.

Tim bounced his legs a bit as he finished his cereal, causing the twins to squeal with joy.

~oo(0)oo~

"So, how did they get here?" Tim asked Jason as he sat on the grass next to Jason's chair and watched Billy and Tommy spin until they were dizzy and then try to run.

"No idea. They just showed up one morning. Professor X said that they would be living here from now on."

"Y'know, they have no idea who their mother is? Or their father? They really don't remember much other than being dropped off here."

Jason flexed his shoulders. "Well, there is some sort of big secret about them. That could have something to do with it."

Tim chortled as the twins crashed in to each other. "That just seems really weird, is all. Not having any idea who your parents are. Granted, I sometimes wish I could forget all about mine."

_Tell me about it._ Jason thought.

A moment later Jean, Ororo, Lorna (Alex's girlfriend), and Rogue walked by.

"That girl's hair naturally green?" Tim asked, indicating Lorna.

"Yep."

Tim got a gleam in his eye.

"She's taken, Tim, and by a guy who could level every house on your block if he wanted to."

"What makes you think --"

Jason whapped him on the head. "Tim, hello? I know you, man. You're wondering if the carpet matches the drapes."

Tim blushed.

"Busted."

"Okay." Tim laughed, then said, "But seriously, Street, there is so much hot walking around here, I'm about to break my damn neck." Pause. "So, who you got your eye on?"

Jason gave a sigh that felt like it came from the bottom of his feet. "No one. Not really."

Tim looked disbelievingly at him.

Jason leaned to the side and put his chin on his fist. Bitterly he said, "They're either older, taken, or think of me like a brother. All the girls my age?" he drew in a deep breath, "They just see the chair, Tim. They just see the chair."

"Oh ..." Tim said softly.

"Chair says I win. Every time."

And on that note they sat in silence, looking on as the twins continued their antics, oblivious to the rest of the world.

"So who you seeing right now, Tim? Back to Tyra?"

Tim shifted uneasily, then said, "No ... I'm not seeing Tyra."

"Lyla? You know it's okay if --"

"No, I'm not seeing Lyla," Tim cut in quickly. "She's -- she's in kind of this all men are evil scum kind of mode, so ...."

"One of the rally girls?"

Tim shook his head. "No, none of them."

"Jackie?"

Heavy sigh. "No. She's ... she's with Billy." Tim finished in a small voice.

Jason laughed and said, "I refuse to believe that you are not seeing some girl."

"Believe it or not, I'm not seeing any girls right now. "

Jason snorted. "I don't. Tim Riggins going steady with Rosy Palmer? Not in this lifetime."

Tim blushed furiously and then turned white. His mouth pressed into a hard line and he looked away.

He reached over and ruffled Tim's hair. "You know I could wait for the right moment, slip these off and find out," he teased.

Tim crossed his arms over his knees and buried his head in them. He whispered something that Jason couldn't quite hear.

"What was that?" Jason snickered, ruffling Tim's hair again. This was too much fun, teasing Tim about his secret affair.

"Landry," Tim hissed. "I'm seeing Landry, okay? Are you happy now?!" He leapt up and stormed off.

Jason sat there, mouth open in shock, until the twins staggered over and collapsed against the chair, asking what was wrong with Tim, why had he run off looking so mad? Was he mad at them?

_Because I'm a huge fucking idiot, sometimes._ Jason thought. "No, he's not mad at you. He's mad at me."

Billy looked up at him with huge brown eyes. "But why is he mad at --"

"Fix it." Tommy glared at Jason, arms crossed, eyes flashing with anger. "Fix it," he insisted, stamping his tiny foot, "or Billy and me are going to get really, really mad at you."

"Yeah," Billy said, following Tommy's lead.

Jason sighed. "Don't worry, I will. But, um ... you guys need to go over there and be with Jubilee and Dani while I do, okay?"

Two identical sets of crossed arms and pouting faces confronted him.

"Jublilee'll make you some sparkly lights if you do."

"Really?" Billy asked, but Tommy had already turned and started running.

~oo(0)oo~

Jason finally found Tim in the rec-room, furiously flinging darts in the general direction of the board. He cleared his throat and said softly, "Hey, Timmy."

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Tim let three more darts fly before acknowledging Jason with a glance.

"Oh, Jesus, Tim. I'm a mutie, you're gay. It's okay."

Tim stalked over to the wall and angrily fisted darts out of the board and the surrounding wall. "I'm not gay," he muttered under his breath as he set up to throw the next batch.

"Yeah, I know. Just said it to get a rise out of you. Hand me the blues," Jason said, holding out his hand. Tim automatically handed them over and then hurled his first dart so hard, Jason was surprised it didn't go through the wall.

Jason said nothing, just let loose with his first one, in a throw so spectacularly lame the dart hit the wall sideways and fell to the floor.

A slight smile twitched at Tim's lips. He actually took time to aim his dart this time.

Jason's second attempt wasn't much better than the first. But at least this time the dart ended up sticking in the wall -- about a foot off the floor. He groaned.

"That's really pathetic, Street." Tim said in a careful voice that Jason knew from experience was a hairsbreadth away from laughing.

"Yeah, well, you try throwing with a fucking pair of glorified socks over your hands."

"You could take them off, you know."

Jason sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah, I could, but I'd rather you told me than just picking up a dart and finding out God knows what. I mean, yeah, there's whatever you were thinking or feeling, but like, what if Logan was playing darts and thinking about putting the moves on Jean?"

Tim frowned at him in thought. "For reals?"

Jason smiled at the memory. "For reals. It was dinnertime and I dropped my fork and he reached over to pick it up and Jean walked by and ... Oh. My. God."

Tim sat down. "So ... you're okay with it, really?"

Jason shuffled his hands. "I, um ... kind of suspected you weren't the straightest guy on the block from time to time." _I'm curious, are you still in love with me?_ "The question is, are you okay with it?"

Burying his head in his hands, Tim shook his head. "I ... I want to be, but ... I'm fucking scared, Jason. What happens if, no, _when_ somebody finds out? What if Billy --" Tim shook and breathed so hard and so fast Tim thought he was going to hyperventilate. "And then there's the whole idea of the beating I'd get from ... people we know." He sat up and wiped at streaming eyes. "But when I'm with him and we're just ... and he's just being Landry? It's -- he makes me happy. Just being with him makes me happy and I haven't felt that way since -- I haven't felt that way in a while. And I need it, Six. I need _him_."

_And if I hadn't been such a fucking coward you and I -- No. Once upon a time, there might have been a way, but now? Not any more._ Jason slung an arm around Tim's shoulders. "It's cool, Tim. Really. You should be happy. And I'm not going to tell you that it's all going to be okay or not to worry, but ... you should see where this takes you." Pause. "Texas Forever, man. I mean it."

With a rueful snort Tim looked over. "Really, and how's that going to happen?"

"I'll get my degree and get a job coaching, and hopefully head back to Dillon and ... we can all take it from there."

"You really think you're coming back to Dillon?"

Jason blinked, taken aback at the almost malice in Tim's voice. "What do you mean? Of course I'm coming back."

"You've got the world open to you in ways I can't begin to dream of and you plan on coming back?" Tim laughed bitterly.

"Well, yeah. Because its what I want, and why shouldn't I have what I want? Nobody has to know I'm a mutant unless I tell them. Unless somebody tells them." He looked meaningfully at Tim. "And what makes you think you're stuck in Dillon or have no way out or have no opportunities open to you? Landry's going to go off to college, right? If you ... if you're still together, why can't you follow him?"

"Because I'm going to a four year school how?" Tim grumbled.

"Maybe you're not. Maybe you're going to the local community college and getting a certificate or training of some kind. Or maybe, Tim, you're going to bust your ass and find something you're good at besides fucking and football, something you can make a living at, and you'll do that. But you won't know until you try."

A knock came at the door jamb. Logan. "Speaking of things he's good at. Tim, can we talk about pool?"

Tim stood and stretched, his joints cracking. "Sure thing."

~oo(0)oo~

Much to Logan's somewhat miffed frustration, Scott beat Tim.

But, Jason noticed the little smile lurking on Scott's face during the match. Not the smirk of "I can hand you your ass any time I feel like it" but the delight of finally having a real challenge, of having to bring his A Game at last.

Jason discovered he _liked_ Scott's smile; it lit up his face. Scott always seemed so serious and he had so many things to deal with. Jason almost never saw him just have fun, but when he did? When he let himself? Jason saw a whole new side of Scott. And he liked it.

~oo(0)oo~

Tim left two days later.

Jason wasn't sure who missed him more, himself or the twins.


	4. Chapter 4

About a week after school resumed, Kitty pulled Jason aside and whispered excitedly, "There's another envelope in my locker. I've been careful not to touch it."

Gingerly, Jason reached in and grabbed it and ... knew.

Kitty jittered and wrung her hands in excitement. "Who is it?"

Jason smirked. "That would be telling."

He laughed when she glared at him.

"Look, I'll tell you this much. It's not Bobby."

Her face fell for a fraction of a second and then she bit her lip in thought. "It's ... um ..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Please tell me it's not St.John."

Inwardly, Jason laughed. He didn't like St.John much either, found his habit of constantly playing with his lighter quite creepy, so creepy in fact that he prayed he never had to pick it up bare handed. "No, it's not him."

"Whew!" She smiled. "So, what can you tell me?"

"He thinks you're the most beautiful girl in school."

Kitty beamed.

"He likes your big brown eyes. And ... you're kind. You're always nice to him."

"Tell me!" She bounced in excitement.

"No." Jason smiled. "But seriously, I'm going to talk to him about it."

She twirled her hair around her finger. "Do you think I'll like him?"

Jason shrugged and replied, "I don't know. It's not like I can read your mind and tell what you might happen to think of him. I like him. I think he's a nice guy, one who deserves you. "

~oo(0)oo~

Mopping the sweat from his brow, Jason said, "You should tell her, Piotr."

The big Russian frowned down at him. "I do not know, Jason. It's just --"

"Look, the worst thing she could say is no."

"Believe me, I know. And why is it people say things like 'the worst thing she could say is no.' Because, yes, it is the worst thing, I am thinking. After all, it is only my heart she will be hurting. "

Jason sighed and reached for his transfer board. "Look. Why don't you try talking to her?"

"What should I say?"

"Ask if she'll sit for a drawing. You're a good artist."

"I could never hope to -- what if she is not liking my drawings?"

"Piotr, we have a saying here in the US. 'You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs.' You sit on this long enough and she may find somebody else she's interested in and where will you be?"

Piotr sank to the bench and cradled his head in his hands. After a moment he said morosely, "Drawing, painting, art, these I know. Lifting weights and working out, these things too. But girls?"

Jason sighed deeply. "Nobody ever knows girls. I certainly don't." Pause. "I'll even bet Professor X doesn't, either."

~oo(0)oo~

"Hey Jason," Scott dropped down into a chair across the table from Jason who was wresting with a particularly evil Advanced Algebra problem.

"You any good at this?" Jason said, indicating the problem.

"Well ... Geometry's my forte, but ... I can take a look at this with you." Scott smiled. "I've been a crappy mentor to you these past weeks. I've been meaning to spend more time with you, but ...." He drew in a deep breath and let it out.

"It's a little hard to fit me in between teaching geometry, training, athletics, and saving the world."

"Don't ever think you're an afterthought, Jason. You're not. And I'm sorry if you've felt that way. It's just ... things are complicated for me right now."

Jason bounced his pencil, eraser side down on the desk a few times. "I don't. It's just ... I feel more like a PE teacher than a coach, and all I really know how to coach is football."

"There's more to coaching than just what takes place at practice."

Jason put his head on his hand. "Yeah, I know, I mean, Coach Taylor made it clear we could knock on his door day or night, and I sure as hell did on several occasions, but, it's different here, Scott."

Scott jotted something down in the margin of his paper and said, "Yeah, but it doesn't mean that you can't learn some valuable things and it doesn't mean that I shouldn't be working more with you." He slid the paper back over. "I think that's what's hanging you up."

Jason blinked when reading the note. "Yeah. Um. Duh. Thanks."

"So, I'd like to talk to you this afternoon. After your lesson with Logan."

"Okay." Jason smiled and went back to work.

~oo(0)oo~

"The twins?!" Jason gasped.

"Yes." Scott said.

Jason hated Scott's glasses at moments like this. It made it harder to gauge what he was thinking.

Scott steepled his hands. "You are going to sit down with Billy and Tommy and make a list of physical activities they want to accomplish, and you're going to help steer them towards five realistic goals, and you're going to help them accomplish them. You will tell me their goals and you'll bounce a few lesson plans off of me and we'll see where it goes."

"But ... it's ... a lot of sports is learned by having you show somebody what to do and --"

"You can't do a lot of things any more. Well, you're going to have to figure out a new way of showing. And if those two don't make you figure it out top to bottom, nothing else will. And, don't worry, I'm sure one or both of them will want to learn to throw a football at some point."

Jason smiled and nodded.

_Shit_.

But at the same time, he had to admit it, this was the kick in the pants that he needed.

~oo(0)oo~

Jason counted as Piotr did another set of reps. It wasn't like he needed a spotter. If the bar slipped and fell, provided it didn't kill him or incapacitate him outright, all he had to do was use his power and that would solve the problem.

"So, what should I do?"

Jason stretched and shifted a bit in his chair. "Ask her out."

"But what if --"

"Look, I'll throw you a bone here. We can make it a group date thing, some friends just going out to have fun together. That way there's less pressure on you and her."

Piotr sat up and mopped at his brow. "That is very good. Who will you ask?"

Jason tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he continued, "I have no idea." At Piotr's concerned look he said, "Don't worry, I'll figure something out. And we'll go into Salem, to a matinee. No biggie."

~oo(0)oo~

"Something wrong, Jay?" Scott said, sitting on the path next to Jason's chair.

Late spring had finally come and the roses in the rose garden had started to bloom. Jason reached out, grabbed hold of one and inhaled deeply. Ororo said this row was "tea roses" but he couldn't figure out why they were called that. With a gusty sigh Jason let the bloom go and said, "The girls here fucking suck, Scott. Pardon my French, but there's no other way to put it.

"In a few days I'm supposed to be going out with Kitty and Piotr and doing a double date kind of thing, but -- and please don't lecture me about this -- yeah I've been using my power to see if any of the girls here might have changed their minds, or might even possibly --" He reached back out and angrily ripped the petals from the stem, crushing them in his fist. "Not a chance. I'm the guy in the chair.

"And ... it's -- I still _like_ to think I have a lot to offer. But this doesn't help my ego any."

Scott said nothing, but a hitch in his breathing caught Jason's attention. Scott was looking at ... Jason followed his gaze to where Logan and Jean were walking at the edge of the woods.

After a moment Scott shook his head and said, "I wish I could give you some sort of kind words of advice, but I'm kind of having a 'the girls here fucking suck' spell, too."

Jason wiped the remnants of the rose petals off on his pants. "Yeah, but you're not a giant walking hormone --"

"I'm 26, not 126."

"So go to a bar, find somebody. With looks like yours it shouldn't be hard."

Scott looked his way for a long moment before saying, "What I want isn't at that bar." He reached out and stripped the petals off of a rose of his own. "Besides, having to leave the glasses on or keep my eyes clenched through the whole thing? That leads to questions that might be a bit awkward to handle." He tossed his petals up in the air. "I'll see if I can talk Alex and Lorna into tagging along. That should let you off the hook."

"I haven't been outside these walls in about three months, Scott. This is a nice place and all, but I'm going a little stir-crazy."

By the way Scott jerked his head, Jason could tell that he had blinked at that. "I hadn't realized that."

"I mean, I may spend the rest of my life in bed or in this chair, and love is pretty much passing me by, but at least the chair can go places."

"Love's passing me by, too, I think. Screw it. I'll make Alex and Lorna come and what the hell, I'll go, too. I haven't been outside the walls just to ... go to a restaurant or a movie in ... far too long."

"It's a date, then," Jason said, mock rolling his eyes.

"Hey, you know what they say. 'Misery loves company.'"

Jason snickered and said, "Just like Mac loves PC."

Scott laughed.

"They've got a special, mark my words."

~oo(0)oo~

During the movie trailers, as he and Scott sat right up front in the wheelchair area with Alex and Lorna and Kitty and Piotr somewhere a few rows behind them, Jason turned to Scott and said, "Should we give them something to talk about?"

"Huh?"

"Well, normally, the adult supervision sits behind everybody and makes sure nothing more exciting than some handholding goes on. Only, since they're all behind us and you don't have eyes in the back of your head? Why not mess with their heads?"

Scott looked at him for several moments, a muscle in his jaw twitching, and then something about his entire attitude shifted -- almost as if he were seeing the world through completely new eyes -- there was an ... unbending in him that Jason had never seen before. A small smile played about Scott's lips as he arched an eyebrow over his glasses and said, "One. You've been hanging out with Logan too much. Two. We're no longer the only group in the theatre, and all things considered, I don't want to explain the joke to that mother and her two teen-aged sons."

Jason glanced over his other shoulder. "Crap."

Scott clapped him on the shoulder. "Not that I don't think it has merit," he whispered in Jason's ear.

Jason leaned over and whispered back after a moment, "Perhaps something on the way back?"

"Oh yes." There was something particularly wicked about Scott's tone that Jason loved.

~oo(0)oo~

"I'm glad it was Piotr who sent the cards," Kitty whispered in his ear while everybody else was in the bathroom after the movie.

Jason smiled at her and said, "I'm happy to hear that."

She didn't say anything more after that, but the way she clenched her hands and twisted and smiled spoke volumes.

And despite the fact that he was still a bit bitter about his situation, Jason liked Kitty and Piotr so much that, well, he couldn't stop his own smile at the thought of them together.

~oo(0)oo~

It was _supposed _ to be a joke. Scott kissed him, really laying one on him, in front of everybody else in the van. Alex groaned in (mock) horror. Piotr sputtered in two languages. Kitty and Lorna clapped and hooted with laughter and made several more requests for "live action yaoi" -- whatever the hell _that _ was.

Jason only knew that he spent the rest of the drive home unable to look at Scott.

And that his dick was a throbbing steel rail.

It completely sucked that something you couldn't even feel could be so damn uncomfortable.

He tried to chalk it up to the fact that he hadn't had any in so very long. That it was his body just interpreting what was supposed to be a mock erotic touch as the real deal because it was so starved for any kind of intimacy with another person.

But it didn't change the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about the feel of Scott's hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in, or the hint of stubble on his chin, or how hot and wet his mouth had been.

Matters weren't helped at all when the act of trying to drain himself before going to bed caused an almost instantaneous erection and ejaculation and he'd slid between the sheets feeling both incredibly fucking pissed off at his stupid body _and_ so relieved he wanted to cry.

By dawn he knew every millimeter of the ceiling over his head.

And he burned to talk about it to somebody except ... um ... _hell no _.

Because calling Tim? "So, Tim, I know how you felt about me and yeah, I can go there too -- now. I'm finally ready to admit that yeah, some boys do it for me too, and you're one of them, so forget Landry, hop in the truck, and let's ...." Not in this lifetime.

"So, um Logan, I need to talk to you about Scott. Something happened and ...." Jason actually managed a rueful snort of laughter at that one.

"Scott, you kind of turned me on when ...." Actually the thought of trying to talk to Scott about, well, anything at all right now, made him so jittery his stomach lurched. _Oh joy, another one of those things that he couldn't feel that he could._

"Professor X? I need to talk to you right now. I don't know if it's just that I'm dying of horniness or what, but I think I might have something of a stupid schoolboy crush on Scott ...." _Oh God ... given how turbulent his emotions right now were, was even thinking about Professor X, much less having a mock conversation with him, enough to inadvertently grab his attention?! Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease let him be so deeply asleep or so busy thinking about something else, or let there be somebody else under this roof with such a "loud" problem that I don't even blip on the radar _.

Damn, but Jason completely understood at moments like this why Tim chose to spend so much of his time shitfaced.

~oo(0)oo~

It made everything better and worse that Scott seemed completely normal the next morning. Treated Jason like nothing had happened. Because clearly, on his end, it hadn't.

Alex clapped him on the back in the hall and said, "I think you must have developed a new power -- the one to make my brother take the stick out of his ass."

Lorna smiled and said hello.

Kitty whispered in his ear that if he ever wanted to kiss Piotr like that she was torn between the hot and between wanting to phase her hand into his chest so she could grab his heart and rip it out.

Rogue texted him that next time, he should invite her and Bobby, too, and Jason should also take Logan instead of Scott and talk him into playing the same joke in front of Bobby and St. John, and she'd play along like she didn't know.

~oo(0)oo~

Billy told Jason that he wanted learn to climb trees and ride a bike on his list of things to do. Not exactly what Jason thought of as a traditional PE or coaching activities, and just hearing that Billy wanted to climb trees brought back such a pang of nostalgia and wanting that that night, in his room, Jason did something he rarely allowed himself to do -- he broke down and cried.

No, he hadn't climbed a tree since he was 14 or so but ...

He had built a tree-fort with Tim when they were 10 in a big cottonwood tree in a lot at the edge of town, and rode their bikes to it and pretty much spent all of the summer before the start of 5th grade in it. In fact, building the fort is pretty much what cemented his and Tim's becoming best friends. And, looking back on it, some of the best, happiest times of his life had been spent lying on a bit of splintery, warped plywood, sucking on a jawbreaker, reading comics (and later, peeping at a much loved copy of Playboy that Tim had managed to get his hands on) and hanging out with Tim and just ... being.

And the knowledge that he couldn't climb a tree or ride a bike any more -- wouldn't ever again -- made him want to do both so badly he didn't have words for it.

But he wasn't going to deny Billy that and, amongst other things, planned a course of physical activity for the quieter and more reserved of the "dynamic duo" (or "twin terrors" depending on what mayhem they managed on a given day) to help him increase the skill and agility needed to become an ace tree climber. It hadn't been all that hard, actually, to convince Scott that a jungle gym and slide were essential PE equipment.

But he also told Billy, "No climbing trees until I okay it. I'm going to teach you and Tommy to ride bikes first."

And Billy, like all little boys, disobeyed.

Which explained Jason's frantic sprint back towards the mansion one Saturday morning in May with a sobbing Billy in his lap while Tommy (got the training wheels off today) pedaled just in front of them. Billy had shinnied out on a limb, and just as Jason wheeled over and very firmly (but as calmly as he could) told Billy to get out of the tree right now, the branch broke and Billy landed hard.

~oo(0)oo~

Broken arm.

Shit.

~oo(0)oo~

"Goddamn it," he unloaded on Scott when they got a moment in private, "I told Billy not to climb any trees until I said it was okay. But did he listen?"

Scott gave him a quirky smile in reply. "Did you when you were his age?"

"Didn't he realize that he could fall and break his arm or his leg -- or worse?" Jason put his head in his hands and groaned in frustration.

"You're very good with them."

"Thanks," Jason muttered. He sat back up and said, "Since you've given me this assignment to work with the two of them, I've had a very important realization. Two of them, really."

"Hmmn?"

"Small boys try to kill themselves about every five minutes."

Scott smiled and nodded in understanding.

"Seriously," Jason said, not quite keeping back his own smile, "I have no idea how my mother didn't have grey hairs by the time I was seven. The shit that I did with Tim? Lord have mercy. If my dad had found out about the half of it, he'd've tanned our hides. And if Tim's dad -- well, the less said about him and what he would've done, the better --"

"Sometimes, I think it's an act of God that Alex is still walking the earth." Scott eased back in his chair. "I love my little brother, but there are not words for how mad he can make me at times. " Pause. "What's revelation number two?"

"I have no idea how Coach Taylor didn't kill all of us on a regular basis."

"Probably for the same reasons I haven't killed Alex ... or Bobby, or St. John, or Sam. Disposing of the bodies is too damn difficult."

"Yeah, there is that."

Scott leaned forward and steepled his hands. "But, just so we're really clear, nobody blames you for Billy being a typical little boy. And I mean it when I say you were really good with him. He and Tommy are asking for you. I said you needed a moment to talk to me."

"They were asking for me? Why? There's --"

"There are a lot of nice adults who take care of them and make them eat their vegetables, but only one adult who's there when they run around, and who's teaching them all the important things about being a little boy, like how to catch frogs, or build a fishing pole, or ride a bike, and, eventually, how to climb a tree."

"Oh, there is that," Jason said, but inside -- with a sort of fierce, hopeful glee -- he thought, _He thinks of me as an adult. _

~oo(0)oo~

"So, um, Jason," Lorna said, sitting down across from him in the library. She somewhat idly twirled a lock of her long green hair around her finger. "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

Jason put aside his pencil. With her naturally green hair, Jason would've thought Lorna would've gone for the punked out look, but no. One hundred percent apple pie, which actually called more attention to her somewhat surreal looks. "Look, if you want to know if Alex has his eye on another girl or something like that? I'm going to have to sleep on it. Because if you're having problems like that, or having any kind of second thoughts, you really should talk them out. Trust me, it's better that way."

She gave him a direct stare with her check-the-crayon-box-green eyes and said, "No, that's not what I'm going to ask. Besides, if I really needed to know, Jean _owes_ me a few."

Jason's mental wheels spun for a few moments at the thought of Jean owing a student something like that so he missed what Lorna said. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

She piffed air up through her bangs and said, "Alex's birthday is coming up and I wanted to get him something nice. Something kind of dressy and I thought I'd ask you because ..." she blushed, "you're always dressed kind of nice."

Jason looked down at his polo shirt and Dockers. He chuckled a bit then said, "I've never really thought of myself as a sharp dressed man, but ... okay, I'll help out."

"Um ... are you free this afternoon?"

No, not really. He was supposed to spend time with Billy and Tommy. "Well ... I'm supposed to work with Billy and Tommy."

"Oh." Her face fell. "Um ... do you think they could come, too? I mean, Alex's birthday is coming soon, and ...."

Jason smiled. "We'll bribe them with some ice cream. But I'm warning you, dealing with them is a case of short attention span theatre."

She nodded and chewed on her lip. "Thanks, because it's not like there's another guy here I can ask about anything like this. Well, maybe, Professor but he's like almost seventy and he's so busy, y'know?"

"Wanting me to consult on clothing. I feel like should be on Queer Eye or What Not to Wear," Jason said dryly.

She reached across the table and laid a hand on his -- and it meant the world to him, that did, somebody touching his bare hand -- "It's okay if you are, you know."

Jason closed his eyes and gave a deep breath. Opening them he said, "Well, that's very kind, but hearing that I blip on your gaydar? Not exactly what I want to hear right now. Because I'm not, okay?"

Her hand flew to her mouth as she blushed deeply. "Oh, um, I --"

"Don't worry. I'll see you in a few hours," Jason tucked his hands back in his gloves and pushed away from the table.

Scott bumped into him in the hallway. "Everything okay, Jason? You look kind of ... grim."

"Just continuing my perfect track record with the ladies here. They can't see past the chair, or treat me like I'm a brother, or think that I'm gay. Or maybe both or all three," Jason huffed before he could stop himself.

A long pause followed, and Jason wished he could see Scott's eyes behind his glasses. "Oh."

Jason continued, "Maybe they know something I don't. Maybe I've been playing for the wrong team."

A little muscle twitched at the edge of Scott's jaw and he said in a weirdly flat voice, "Maybe." Then, a smile flashed on his face and he said, "You know that old joke about bisexuality --"

"What?"

"It increases your chances of getting a date by fifty percent."

And despite everything, Jason had to laugh at that. Well, because no. Not fifty percent. _Maybe not at all._


	5. Chapter 5

"Are we really going to go outside?" Billy asked, eyes huge and round. He idly scratched at the surface of his cast.

"Yup." Jason said. "We're going to help Lorna go shopping and then, if you're good, and only if you're good, Lorna and I are going to take you for ice cream and if you're especially good, you can have jimmies. And then we'll take you to run around in the park. They've got a super jungle gym and three slides."

"What are jimmies?" Tommy asked.

_How do you not know jimmies?_

"They're brightly colored candy sprinkles. You'll like them," Lorna said. "So, um, how do we want to work this?" She asked Jason as she gestured toward the Honda Fit her aunt and uncle had bought her for her birthday. "What's more comfy for you?"

"Hmmm ... probably the front seat."

The trip into Salem happened without too many problems, other than having to remind Tommy and Billy that no, the seat belts had to stay on, and when Tommy took his off, Jason had a fit laughing at the look of outrage on his face when Lorna used her gift of being able to manipulate iron to strap him in and keep him that way.

"Do you want ice cream?" Jason asked when he finally stopped laughing.

Tommy's eyes got huge and worried and he quieted down right away.

~oo(0)oo~

Jason solved the problem of curious five-year-olds by having them both sit in his lap as he wheeled after Lorna. Yeah, it meant that a lot more clothes than usual got brushed off the racks, but that's what department stores got for putting the racks so close together. Okay, the curious little boys had something to do with that, too.

The boys were over with Lorna as she stood in line to pay for the two shirts and even a tie ("The one tie he has is just hideous. I think Scott bought it for him and considering how his shades skew the color on everything? You get the idea.") Jason had helped her pick out for Alex. Jason idly wheeled over to a rack of some interesting looking henleys by the door, pulled off his mitts and was rubbing the fabric -- kind of silky, he liked it -- between thumb and forefinger when Scott walked in.

Only ... Scott walked right by without saying anything, intent on Lorna and the Twins.

(He couldn't quite place it, but ...)

"Hey Scott," Jason called out, "can you help me with this?" He indicated the hanger, just out of reach.

Scott started, paused, and walked over. "Hey, didn't see you over there."

(... like an itch at the back of his mind ...)

Barely glancing at him, Scott reached over and handed him one of the shirts.

(and Jason _knew_.)

He reacted instantly, letting the shirt slide though his grasp. "Hey Scott, I dropped --" he edged his right hand towards a little gift that Logan insisted always be kept strapped in a handy place.

With an annoyed sigh, not-Scott bent down and Jason whipped the blackjack over and across as hard as he could, hitting exactly where Logan taught him to strike. The impostor dropped like a sack of potatoes. "Lorna!" he yelled, "We've got troubles!"

"Huh?!" She said, glancing over.

"This is not Scott!" Jason shouted, raising the blackjack again in case not-Scott should show some signs of rousing.

Lorna dropped everything, grabbed the two boys and started for the back of the store. Snagging his chair with her gift -- scaring Jason shitless in the process -- she eventually drew it in front of her and pushed it the same way.

Hell broke loose a split second later. It was like being inside a tornado. Jason had no other way to describe the maelstrom of clothing and racks that whirled around him. Something knocked him out of the chair and flung it away. He ducked and covered as best he could. All around him he heard glass shattering, metal racks banging, and people screaming in pain, or fear, or both.

And then the whirlwind stopped and Jason turned and rolled over as much as he could. A few people still cried in pain, but everybody else had gone silent.

An elderly man, clad in black, stood about 20 feet in front of Lorna, looking as if he owned the place. Jason had a nagging feeling he should know the guy.

"Go help Jason," Lorna said softly to the twins. "help him sit up."

"You're very powerful," the old man said to her. "We could do a lot together, you at my side."

"Fuck off." Lorna spat the words at him.

The old man snorted mirthlessly and said, "Like I said, very powerful, but not powerful enough." A rack skittered across the floor, picking up speed.

Lorna stopped it, but the effort drove her to her knees.

"And you," the old man said, in a deceptively mild voice, looking at Jason who had the twins, silent with terror, clinging to him in a mutual death grip. "Shall I presume it was you who knocked Mystique out?"

Oh fuck. He knew who this was. He tightened his grip on the boys.

"Damn straight," Jason said with bravado he didn't quite feel.

Magneto said, "Hand the boys over and this will end very quickly." He stretched out his hand.

Lorna groaned and fell back onto her hands. She glanced over at Jason. Blood, shockingly red against her tangle of green hair, streamed out of her nose. "Don't," she mouthed.

The twins started sobbing.

Magneto stepped forward. "I'll be taking the boys now."

Jason felt something start tugging at them. The twins clung all the harder and started screaming at Jason not to let them go.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Magneto said, advancing. Lorna moaned in pain and collapsed to the floor, but the tugging sensation ceased. "You _are _ strong, girl, stronger than I thought," he said with a certain note of respect in his voice. "But so preoccupied with blocking me, you can't do anything else. I guess I'll have to do this hands-on." He stepped around her and advanced on Jason.

Lorna looked at Jason. "I can't --" she mouthed, terror in her eyes.

"Give them up. They belong with me," Magneto said in a voice so mild, so calm, so reasonable sounding ... until you glimpsed the madness in his eyes.

"Fuck you!" Jason shouted. _Yeah, like I can do more than hurl insults at him. _

Something flickered in Magneto's eyes as he crouched down next to them. "Come with me, boys. Be quiet now and come with me." He laid a hand on Tommy who promptly bit him. Magneto reeled back, eyes blazing with fury.

"They're little boys," Jason shrieked at him. "They're just little boys and you're scaring them!"

"Let. Them. Go."

"No." Pause. "Make me." _I may be a quad, but I'm young and have a hell of a lot more upper body strength than you, you old bastard. _

"He might not be able to, but I sure as hell can," snarled the blue skinned woman who came up behind Magneto. She rubbed idly at the knot on her temple and her yellow eyes glared murder.

"So long as you don't hurt the boys, mind," Magneto said calmly.

_Fuck _

A split second later loud blasts of red energy sent both Mystique and Magneto flying. Scott. In his battle gear. Flanked by Jean (who had used her telekinesis to float them in silently) and accompanied Ororo and Logan, also in battle gear.

"Jean," Lorna rasped, "you've got to -- his mind -- I can't hold him any longer!"

"Right," Jean said crisply, as she and Ororo advanced on Magneto. Scott and Logan stalked towards Mystique.

Jason wasn't really sure what happened next. He could hear the sounds of further commotion, but the focus of his world narrowed to Lorna. He sent Tommy and Billy over to sit with her as he slowly inched his way over. Lorna was completely drained and trembling slightly. They really couldn't do anything more for her than hold her hands and stroke her hair and try to comfort her. "I'll be fine. I'll be fine," she murmured.

"Sorry I couldn't do more," Jason whispered. "Sorry I have such a stupid power."

"'S'not stupid," she smiled wearily. "You did fine. You warned me as soon as you knew. You kept them safe."

A heavily armed SWAT team burst into the building and a few minutes later bustled back out, presumably with Mystique and Magneto. Next, EMTs and other emergency personnel came in to start triaging the wounded.

Scott crouched down next to him. "Are you alright?"

Jason nodded. "I'm fine. Just want to go home."

Scott gave a quirky grin, "Well, after they get that piece of metal out of your leg."

"What?" Jason reared up as best he could, but an EMT's firm, but gentle hands pushed him back down.

"It's pretty gruesome looking," she said, "and it's going to hurt like hell when the adrenaline wears off."

"I'm a C7-T1 quad, so no, it won't."

"Oh." She blushed faintly then said, "Well, let me check the rest of you." She pulled out a pen light and began flicking it in his eyes.

Scott squeezed his shoulder and said, "I'll catch up with you later."

Logan gave him a thumbs up as they loaded him into the ambulance. "I hear you done me proud, Bub," he called.

"Yeah," Jason replied, and even though he couldn't really feel a damn thing from the mid-chest down, now that the rush had worn off, he felt like he had been put through the wringer. He just wanted to go home and sleep for a million years.

Despite being strapped in, Jason inadvertently grasped at the rails on the gurney as the ambulance bounded over a bumpy stretch.

He didn't come to until some time later in the ER. Somebody had taken his mitts off somewhere along the way. _Shit._

~oo(0)oo~

While they were taking the shelf-bracket out of his shin and while he was giving his statement to the police, the security camera footage of him holding on to Billy and Tommy and facing down Magneto made the national news.

~oo(0)oo~

Scott finally came in to take Jason home. He brought a new pair of mitts and a new chair. Lorna had been released earlier. Other than the need for a good night's sleep, she was fine, as were Tommy and Billy.

"Thank you," Jason said, reaching for the mitts. "You have no idea how damn hard it is not to touch anything. This place is like a minefield for me."

Scott just nodded and helped him into the chair and didn't say much until they got to the car. Jean was in the driver's seat. Scott lifted him into the passenger seat and then gave a heavy sigh as he slid in to the back seat. Jean said nothing, but there was a certain tightness to her mouth.

"What?" Jason asked after a few minutes of incredibly tense silence.

"We can talk about this --" Jean began.

In a resigned voice Scott said, "You and Lorna opened up several cans of worms."

Jean glanced over her shoulder at him and Jason could see by the looks on their faces that they were having some sort of conversation.

Finally Scott said, "Because you're a minor, we've had to notify your parents."

_Fuck!_ "Shit."

::There's also footage all over MSNBC and CNN.::

"They're probably going to want to visit."

::Professor's been talking to them. He says they're about as calm as can be expected, a bit proud, too, at your bravery.::

"Oh." _Shit. Shit. Shit._

"Which means you're probably going to have to tell them about yourself very soon, if that little tidbit doesn't make it into the news first." Heavy sigh. "I suggest you call them and tell them as soon as possible instead of letting them hear it from the TV."

::I agree. It's not the sort of thing they should find out from some reporter asking them about their son, the mutant.::

Jason closed his eyes. He loved his parents, and after a day like today a part of him ached to hear their voices -- especially his mother's voice -- more than anything, but .... He sighed heavily. "I'll call them as soon as we get back."

"And then a few of us need to talk to you about ... what happened."

::But that will wait until we're back on campus.::

_Oh shit! I did forget to sign us all out? Or did Lorna get that?_

::Lorna got that.:: Jean's voice had a profound weariness to it, ::But that's not the issue. Please. It will wait until we get back."

~oo(0)oo~

"Mom?"

"Oh baby, it's so good to hear you! Are -- are you okay?"

Jason wanted to throw up. "I'm fine. Can you get dad on the other line? I've got -- I need to talk to you."

He heard his mother put a hand over the receiver and yell for his father to pick up.

"Jason, you were -- well, I knew I'd always raised a good man, and now the world can see that. You didn't flinch a bit as that guy -- the news reports say it's Magneto -- advanced on you."

"Yeah, it was Magneto." Jason sighed.

"Is that -- are there a lot -- that stuff -- are there a lot of mutants up there?"

his parents' voices tumbled over each other.

Jason laughed on the edge of a sob. "Yeah. Because ... because there's something I need to tell you, and I shouldn't have ... I should've told you sooner."

Dead silence.

His mother figured it out. "Oh, baby, oh no --"

Jason felt his heart sink. "Yeah, I'm a mutant."

Dead silence.

"And I thought you should hear it from me instead of from reporters or the news. So far the major outlets don't know my name yet, but that probably won't last long. And after that ...?"

"So ... how long?" His father's voice was barely above a whisper.

"It started right before State. I'm -- I'm a sort of empath. Nothing exciting. No flying, or fireballs, or anything like that."

"Are you okay, Jason?" He could hear the tears in his mother's voice. "Are you really okay?"

"Yeah," he choked back. "I'm fine. School's good. I, um ... I'm learning to use my powers a bit, but there's limits to that and -- are _you all_ okay? Are you okay with me --"

"Of course we're okay, son," his father rasped. "I won't say this isn't a bit of a shock, and ... it's not going to win you or us any popularity contests, especially if people find out, but we're kind of used to being in the doghouse 'round here."

"You're my baby, Jason, you'll always be my baby."

Jason felt so relieved he started crying. "Still, it might be a good time for you to keep a low profile, y'know?"

"Do you want us to come up there?"

"Only if you want to. I'm -- I'm fine. I'm happy here -- mostly."

"Mostly happy?" His mother's voice took on an edge.

"I miss you, and Dillon, and my friends down there a lot sometimes. Like right now."

Both his parents laughed a little at that.

~oo(0)oo~

Jason rolled in to Professor X's office. In addition to Professor X, Jean, Scott, Logan and Ororo were there. _Oh, this was some deep shit._

Professor X took a deep breath and said, "Jason, there's not an easy way to put this, but in attempting to keep you and everybody else here out of harm's way, we inadvertently put you into great danger." He steepled his fingers and continued, "William and Thomas aren't just anybody's little boys. They're the children of a woman named Wanda Maximoff. That name means nothing to you. She's a very powerful mutant --"

"And she happens to be Magneto's daughter," Scott cut in. Professor gave him a look, but said nothing.

_Oh_. "Well ... um, obviously, I had no idea." Jason murmured.

"Of course you didn't, and we're going to ask you not to share that information. If it became more widely known ...."

Ororo ran a hand through her hair and said, "The repercussions could be staggering."

"And that's putting it lightly," Logan said.

"But," Jason shrugged, "everybody pretty much knows they live here now. Magneto knows we're here --"

"Magneto has known we were here for years." Professor X sighed and ran a hand across his head and face. "He didn't know that Billy and Tommy were here. He views them as a sort of last chance to bring up his children the 'right' way. Wanda put her sons with us as a way of protecting them from him."

"The long and the short of it is," Scott said, "we have ways of blocking people -- including other mutants -- from peering too closely at what's going on behind these walls, and if Magneto still thinks they're here when -- when and not if -- he escapes, there will be hell to pay. He's got ways of finding mutants, too.

"You didn't know that Billy and Tommy weren't supposed to go beyond the walls. We didn't tell you --"

Jean took over. "But now, for everybody's safety, we're going to have to move Billy and Tommy to another safe place."

"Can I say goodbye?" Jason blurted. He didn't realize he had become so attached to the boys, but now that they were leaving? He missed them all ready. His face felt like it was trying to crumple.

Professor gave a gentle smile, "Of course. It's going to be hard on them already. This is the only home they've ever known."

Jason nodded.

"We're sorry we couldn't tell you sooner, but --"

"I understand." Pause. "Um ... how is this -- didn't they live with their mother or something before?"

Professor X winced. "I said too much. You're very perceptive even without your power, Jason. Very well. You know how I said their mother was very powerful?"

"Yes."

"She accidentally wished Billy and Tommy into being."

~oo(0)oo~

Jean knocked on his door. "Something's come up, Jason."

"What?" Jason's mind was still reeling from what Professor X had told him about two hours ago.

"Several news shows have requested interviews."

Jason felt a tension headache begin clawing at the base of his skull. "Is that so? What should I do?"

She sank on to the bed and smoothed the skirt of her suit. "It's your choice. You don't have to."

"How much do they know about me? About the school?"

She gave a wry smile. "Not a whole heck of a lot. We try to keep it that way."

Jason held up his mitt covered hands. "Look, talking to my parents was hard enough, but I don't think I'm really ready to go on national television and say hey, I'm a virtually defenseless mutant. I think I'll opt for a bit of anonymity." Pause. "How's Lorna handling all of this?"

"There's actually not as much interest in her. Oh there is some, but more about you --"

"Because they think I'm an ordinary person who stood up to Magneto."

"Exactly."

Jason snorted. "In a way, I am an ordinary person, standing up to Magneto. It's not like my power did me a damn bit of good in that situation. But my answer's still no. I don't want to deal. Not with this, not right now. I don't want the school to have to deal. Y'know?"

She flashed a huge smile. "I do. Now take something for that headache."

"Yes ma'am."


	6. Chapter 6

Things seemed so empty that first week without Tommy and Billy. Before, Jason had wondered how he was going to fit them in on top of his studies and his regimen.

Now he seemed to have oodles of time.

And it seemed like Logan and Scott had the same idea on how to deal with how to fill it. They both pushed him twice as hard, twice as long.

"You cold-cocked Mystique, Jason, and yeah, it's because I taught you how, but it was a lot of luck, too. And if she ever crosses your path again she's going to be itching for payback. She's going to be out for blood. When I go against her, she's scary good. It's everything in me to match her. You? A guy in a wheelchair who sucker punched her and laid her out?"

"Why bother, if she's just going to gut me?" Jason snapped.

"Because she's a vain bitch who's going to think that you got her once, through luck, but you're nothing more than a cripple in a wheelchair. And that's your opening. She's overconfident and will let her guard down at some point. And you've got to know that moment and seize it."

"Like I can take her."

Logan's fingers dug painfully into his shoulders as he hissed, "You already did. I want you to know every possible way you can drop that bitch how and when she least expects it. You life may depend on it. The lives of your friends and family may depend on it."

Things weren't much better with Scott, who had him watching oodles and oodles of hockey and football games, having him analyze strategies, point out various strengths and weaknesses, drilling him on what he would've done different, and why. And when it wasn't football or hockey, it was famous battles in history.

"I almost feel as if you're grooming me for some sort of field command. Except I know you're not," Jason grumbled after he lost (as Napoleon) the battle of Waterloo -- again.

Scott looked almost hurt as he replied, "And why do you say that?"

Jason felt his jaw clench. "Look. Please don't patronize me."

"I don't believe in busy work, Jason."

"Then what is this?"

"It's teaching you to think, teaching you to lead. What do you think coaching is?"

"Scott, do you really think I'm ever going to be a coach? Do you think the little town of Dillon is going to welcome me back? Do you think I'm really going to get my little bit of Texas forever? Because let me tell you, I've heard it from both my parents and from Tim and it's the juiciest gossip in town -- my being a mutant -- and the reaction is decidedly mixed. They retired my number after we won State. Well, a few of the Boosters have moved to un-retire it, but a more than a few kids have said they wouldn't wear it if assigned to them."

Scott slid his glasses up and rubbed at his eyes. "Okay, no shitter here. No, I don't think you're ever going to coach, not the way you dreamed of it. But I think you're a damn good leader and strategist -- I've watched your game tapes -- and a lot of being a good leader? It's a lot like coaching in some ways."

"Yeah, like I'm ever going to be on the front lines."

"Probably not. But the generals seldom are. You think that I never have Professor X in my mind, calling shots, showing me the big picture?"

"So ... you're grooming me to be Oracle?"

Scott snorted at the comics reference. "Yeah, Oracle."

"Does this mean I'm getting my own team of hot super babes to secretly lead?" Jason asked in a tone both flippant and sarcastic. "And that means I'll be Charlie, not Oracle."

Scott frowned in thought. "Actually, that may not be such a bad idea. Let me talk to the Professor about this."

"You're serious." Jason blinked in shock.

Scott shrugged. "I don't see why not. I mean, off the top of my head, I'd like to see what you could do with Lorna, Jubilee, Boomer, Kitty, and Rogue."

Jason felt a wave excitement rise in him. He didn't want to get too hopeful, but .... "Scott," he said with a smile, "I have a confession to make. My first time coaching was my Junior year. The powderpuff game."

"You won?"

"Hell no. Got my ass handed to me by the other team."

~oo(0)oo~

Scott lay back on a bench next to him, pillowed his head on his hands and smiled up at the sky. Jason tried to keep his glances surreptitious, but it wasn't exactly easy. And frankly, he also envied Scott's toned, tanned legs, wished his own weren't so white and spindly. The breeze ruffled Scott's short brown hair and when he smiled over at Jason, his heart skipped a beat. Because Scott was so ....

"Did you even hear a word I just said, Jason?"

Jason felt his face flame. "No." Pause. "I was lost in thought -- unfamiliar territory."

Scott laughed. "As if. Look, Professor has given the go ahead to you trying to meld Lorna, and the rest into a team, but, other than powderpuff, you haven't really coached girls before, have you?"

"No."

"It's different than coaching guys. I'm telling you now that it's not going to be like when you were on a team and there was one leader and there was this nice neat chain of command. Women do it differently. There is going to be an alpha girl, but it's going to be more about consensus and ... there's going to be a lot of talking. Ooodles and oodles of talking about how to accomplish things that you as a guy would just tell the rest of the guys on your team to do and they would.

"You'll be questioned at every step of the way. Not because they're trying to undercut you, but because they'll just want to know why you want them to do it. It's just the way women are. I mean, you will be issuing orders, but the way in which they're going to come together to carry them out is going to be very different than the way guys come together to get things done."

"Uh-huh." Jason studied his hands.

Scott squeezed him on the shoulder. "This isn't some sort of second thoughts or vote of no-confidence. I'm just letting you know that you're going to have to do things differently, but you'll figure out the dynamics of this particular group of girls, and you can knock on my door anytime you need to vent."

Jason smiled. "Hopefully that won't happen too often."

Something brittle entered Scott's expression as he said, "I mean, I know I don't have quite the easy rapport you've got with Logan, but --"

Jason looked him in the eye. "There's a reason you're the team leader and Logan isn't. Sure, he can handle things on the fly, but he's too much of a lone wolf to build a team. He'd crack under the pressure. My friend Tim's a bit like him. But they both make great lieutenants, though."

"Yeah, that they do." Scott sighed morosely.

~oo(0)oo~

"So, like, we're all yours?" Jubilee said in a tone of utter disinterest and blew a huge bubble.

"Like, could you be more rude?" Boomer snapped at her.

Jubilee put her hands on her hips and stuck her lip out mulishly. "I don't know. Wanna find out?"

Jason knew fighting words when he heard them. "Both of you, quit it. _Now_."

Reluctantly they turned and looked at him.

"Yes, you are all mine and if you hate that with what Kitty calls 'white hot stabby rage' then quit now because I see some other potentials I can tap like Paige or Dani."

Silence.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do ...." God, he hoped that Scott knew what he was doing when he said to assign his team a series of tasks and let them sort out the pecking order amongst themselves. Plus, Scott wanted to see notes and observations from Jason about how they worked and who did what well.

Two hours later he felt ready to beg for mercy when Scott ambled over.

"Well?"

"Okay. Lorna's definitely our team leader, but beyond that?" Jason put his head in his hands and sighed from the bottom of his feet. "It trades between Rogue and Kitty depending on what the task is. Oh, and the three of them are ready to kill Boomer and Jubilee -- and frankly, I am, too -- and we've got to come up with code-names for Kitty and Lorna."

"Rome wasn't built in a day." Scott replied. "I think you're off to a fairly good start."

"Really?" Jason asked, squeezing his eyes shut and massaging his temples against the pain.

"Yup. By the way, Jean said you might want this." He held out bottle of Advil.

"God bless her. I think I should make this a part of my permanent kit." Jason patted the fanny pack slung around his waist.

Scott laughed and said, "Why do you think she sent the bottle?"

~oo(0)oo~

Two hours a day five days a week spent in the company of five really beautiful teenaged girls. An hour a day five days week, plus bits and pieces here and there on the weekends spent in the company of a guy who had it all -- good looks, charm, brains. A guy who genuinely treated Jason like an equal, not a stupid teenager.

UTIs be damned. Jason had to have some relief.

And even when he wasn't taking matters into his own hands, the triple X cinema of his dreams took care of things quite nicely.

Not that waking up and discovering you were damp and sticky down there from come was that much better than it being from leakage.

~oo(0)oo~

"So, is your team going to have a name?" Scott asked one morning at breakfast.

July had come and school wasn't really in session -- Jason had a few classes because of college summer sessions, and he wasn't going to go home until August -- but all of his team was still, for one reason or another, at the Institute. Since they were all still in High School, they didn't have classes, but Jason still insisted on his two hours a day. He felt almost ready to put them in the Danger Room. Boomer and Jubilee bickered constantly about everything, but were somehow best friends now. Jason had no idea how _that_ worked, but figured he should just leave well enough alone.

"I was thinking something humble like Jason's Angels."

"Old school. I like it."

"Yeah, it beat out Stigmatalingus."

Scott did a spit-take.

"Long story," Jason said. He dropped his voice to a whisper and continued, "By the way, Boomer and Jubilee are going to put on a 'fireworks' show in slightly belated honor of my birthday down by the reflecting pond tonight. I'm not supposed to know, but ... there was a lot of whispering about something going on and I figured --"

"That you'd better find out what it was all about. Yeah. Sometimes you've got to do that as a Coach."

"Exactly."

"So you took the gloves --" Scott began disapprovingly.

"Hell no, I did it the old fashioned way." Jason smiled. "I eavesdropped. If I'm careful, this chair is practically silent."

Scott snickered.

~oo(0)oo~

Jason may have had to pretend to be surprised by the fact that his team had worked up a show for him, but his gasps and wows of amazement were genuine. As were everybody else's.

Because, even though this was all for show, seeing Boomer's plasma balls and Jubilee's plasmoids phase through Kitty was quite the feat, as was seeing Boomer make "bombs" of all sizes, from marble to beach ball -- which was big and bright but not powerful -- and Jubilee did several variations with her plasmoid streams -- thin little ribbons, pulses in time to the beat of music, huge sprays of sparks -- it all of it had applications in the field, and the girls had clearly pushed themselves to find out new tricks. Plus, and perhaps most importantly, the three of them worked as a team. Then Rogue stepped in and Boomer lobbed her a few plasma balls which she juggled. And when they went off? Everybody's jaw dropped at the reveal of yet another power from Rogue -- invulnerability. Lorna joined in at the finale, using her powers to levitate and move Boomer and Jubilee, who kept up a steady stream of fiery lights despite being moved in several directions.

"You just might have something there, Bub," Logan whispered in his ear.

::Impressive. Very impressive:: Jean sent.

Professor X's and Ororo's eyes glowed with pride.

_But I didn't do anything!_ Jason thought. _It's all them. _

::Nonsense,:: Professor X gently chided. ::You got them to work together as a team. You motivated them to find new ways to push themselves. And in under two months. Quite the accomplishment.::

Jason smiled and blushed at the pride he heard in Professor X's tone.

His biggest grin was reserved for Scott, who ducked down next to him and said, "Color me flabbergasted, Jason."

"It was all the Advil."

They both laughed at that.

Jason reached for his water bottle, the condensation on it made it slip from his grasp. He had slipped his hands out of the mitts because the evening was warm and he didn't feel like getting his mitts damp. This wasn't West Texas; everything took longer to dry out here. "Shit." It rolled a few feet away. Going to pick it up ...?

He saw Scott reach for it -- a reflex action -- but before he could get the words out, remind him, warn him ....

"Here," Scott said absently and pressed it to his hand, eyes on Jubilee, standing in front of Logan, making little bursts of plasmoids arch between her hands, a new trick.

Jason gasped as it slammed into him. _OH. MY. GOD._ "Sc-Scott --" he choked out.

Scott's head whipped around and Jason watched it dawn on him a split second later. "Excuse me," he whispered, face stricken, and briskly walked away, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Wait, Scott, I --" But before Jason could get anything more out, Alex and Lorna rushed over and asked about the possibility of a boys versus girls match in the danger room.

Still reeling from what he had just discovered, Jason forced his mind back to the present and said, "Um ... I'll have to clear it with Professor X and Logan and ... Scott." _Oh God, Scott._ "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but something's just come up and I have to go and --" He spun and wheeled after Scott, who had made it to the door of the mansion.

He felt almost giddy with anticipation as he ghosted his hands over the door to Scott's room and, yeah, he was in there, cringing with shame and embarrassment and, worst of all, fear.

Jason knocked on the door. "Scott, can I come in?"

Silence.

He knocked again.

More silence.

He pounded on the door and yelled, "Goddamnit, Scott! If you don't open this door right now I'll get Kitty to phase me in."

The door opened a crack. "Jason, I --" Scott rasped

"Let me in." Jason bumped his chair against the wood to show he meant business. "I mean it," he said, glaring up at Scott (who looked miserable) "I'm not kidding, I will go get Kitty."

Resigned, Scott hung his head and opened the door, allowing Jason to enter. Scott shut the door and then silently sank to the bed. "Jason, I am -- I didn't mean."

"Scott, just shut up and listen." Jason rolled over and took one of Scott's hands. "Look at me." When Scott didn't respond, Jason softened his tone and said again, "Look at me, 'cause I'm only going to say this once.

"For many years my best friend, Tim, was in love with me. And I knew it, and I wanted to, but I told myself that I couldn't act on it because Lyla was my girlfriend and ..." he sucked in a deep breath. "That's what I told myself. But Lyla wasn't what was stopping me. Not really. I was afraid. What would everybody think? What would happen if people found out? What would mom and dad do? And Coach? And a million other worries.

"And because I was scared -- too scared to talk about it, at all -- I lost a chance at something that could've been really good. It could have been a flaming trainwreck, too, or maybe even just fizzled out, but it could have been really good, too. And I'll never get to know.

"So yeah, Scott, I mostly like girls, but guys -- some guys -- too, and what I'm trying to say here is," he stroked the back of Scott's hand with his thumb, "is I'm not afraid. Not any more. And I feel pretty much the same way about you, too. You're amazing and wonderful and ... let's just try this and see where it goes. Because, yeah, it could crash and burn, or fizzle out, but ... what if it doesn't?" His voice broke on that last bit.

"Jason," Scott whispered, voice barely audible.

In desperation Jason threw his hand around the back of Scott's neck and hauled him in, kissing him with everything he had, trying to show him, make him understand. And after a moment's hesitation, Scott responded. When they broke for air, or more accurately, when Jason let them break for air, Jason said, "I'm not a boy, Scott. I haven't been a boy since September of last year. I'm a man, and I make my own choices, and I choose you."

Scott smiled and stroked Jason's hair before finally cupping his face and saying, "So, what now?"

"More kissing would be good." _Because you're a hell of a kisser. _

"Can do."

"And some cuddling would be nice."

Scott snorted gently and said, "What, you don't want to jump right in?"

"A part of me does, but the other part of me -- the big brain -- says to start slow, because this is a pretty big step for the both of us. We're going to surprise a hell of a lot of people. Probably ourselves most of all." Jason laughed as a thought occurred to him. "Besides, a large part of a successful strategy is about learning the lay of the land before committing all the troops."

Scott smirked and said, "Well, it seems I have taught you something. Now, let me get you over here so I can get my scouting session started." And he pulled Jason to him as he lay back on the bed.

Oh yeah, a hell of a kisser indeed, and certainly had some good ideas about what to do with his hands, too.

It wasn't the Texas forever he had dreamed of. It might go down in flames, but as Scott's tongue found a particularly good spot on his neck -- one that made him gasp and stiffen -- Jason knew he'd never regret taking the chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Has a sequel in [Dead Man's Hand](http://archiveofourown.org/works/51413).


End file.
